Ave Maria
by amourdesoi
Summary: In Ikebukuro, darkness can lurk inside anyone - and even monsters can sometimes find some strange sort of solace in each other. Shizuo x OC.
1. prologue: stasis

A/N: So, as usual, I get smacked in the head with an idea that must've had super glue on it because I couldn't get it off my mind. This will definitely be in a whole different direction than any of my other stories, if you've read them - and no, I won't be giving up any of them, so don't worry. (If you even were. Haha...)

This will be a dark one; at least, that's how I'm going to try to portray it as. This is just the prologue, so there's not much in here, yet. Sorry! Please enjoy.

I don't own Durarara.

* * *

**prologue**

_".__.. another murder last night ..."_

Shizuo's not really listening to the news report on the television; he's far too busy taking in every detail of Kasuka's blank face that he hasn't seen in far too long. It's been months since he's seen him, and he couldn't have been any happier when he received his brother's phone call earlier.

Earlier, he had been in mid-stomp, foot poised to land right on some indebted bastard's throat. Then the ringtone that was specifically assigned to his brother's number had drifted into his rage deafened ears.

_"... could possibly be related to the ..."_

He remembers thinking, _Kasuka, you saved me again_; because it's not like he really _wants _to stomp on some guy's throat until it's part of the pavement, but he can't really help the way his body moves before consulting his brain.

"Missed you, Kasuka. How have you been?"

_Far too long, indeed, _he thinks as he sees the slightest of shadows underneath his brother's eyes. There's no doubt that they're only there because he works so hard. He wishes he would take a day to relax.

"I've been fine, Aniki. How is your work going?"

_"... gruesome scene, indeed ..."_

Shizuo tells him, "Going alright, I guess. I haven't ... done any major harm, lately," and he thinks that they both know that he just told a boldfaced lie.

It doesn't matter, though. Not really. Not when he's content just sitting here in this ridiculously nice apartment with one of the few people he gives a flying fuck about.

_"... giving their best efforts to catch ... "_

"Aniki."

To anyone else, his voice sounds flat, emotionless. To Shizuo, his voice sounds like a disapproving parent who caught their child sticking their hand in the cookie jar.

"Yeah, I should've known. You always could read me like a book..." He chuckles and loosens the small black bow tie around his neck.

_"... pray it all ends soon."_

* * *

Mayonaka does not bat one eyelash as wrinkled, paper bills flutter down to land on her bare torso. Instead, she lazily reaches over to the nightstand to grab her pack of cigarettes and lighter, still unblinking as the man that stands before her buttons up his expensive looking shirt.

"Great job as usual, Risa-chan..."

No response comes from her; it isn't her real name, after all, and she has just mentally clocked out from work anyway.

The man is now fully clothed, and she's still naked except for the rosary that lies on her chest. Even as he sits down next to her, she's silent, and she places a cigarette in between her dry lips.

The words_ old fuck_ flashes in her mind before she can even think about how that's not a nice thing to say or think. Not like it matters, because she's probably not considered a nice girl. Nice girls don't do what she does for a living.

"You know, it's kind of disheartening when you act like this-"

A hand settles on her thigh. "-when a few minutes ago, you were so very... animated."

What she does for money, _nice girls_ do for _love_. At least, so she has been told. His sweaty hand slides further up her thigh, and she bats it away without flinching.

"Not until next time, Yamamoto-san." He reluctantly removes his hand from her body, and Mayonaka finally lights her cigarette. She's trying her best to ignore how her arm aches from earlier, when the (_old fuck_) man gripped it hard and held it against her back, had her face shoved against the pillow-

"Ah, yes. Of course." He stands up, clears his throat. "Same time, next week?"

"Yeah... you got it." She takes a drag of her cigarette and watches it swirl up to the grimy looking ceiling before it slowly dissipates.

The door opens, closes. Inhale, exhale. She stares at the ceiling and pretends she didn't just have sex with a man old enough to be her father.

Same routine as any other night, for her.

* * *

**CHATROOM**

_Kanra-san has joined the chat._

**Tanaka Taro**: Ah, good evening, Kanra-san.

**Setton**: Evening...

**Kanra**: Good evening indeed~ how is everybody doing tonight?

**Tanaka Taro**: Fine, thank you.

**Setton**: I was alright until this UFO special came on...

**Kanra**: Ah ha, Setton-san is such a scaredy cat!

**Setton**: I wouldn't be so scared if they weren't real!

**Tanaka Taro**: It's okay, Setton-san. I think you're safe...

**Kanra**: I don't know about that~ Haven't you heard the news reports?

**Tanaka Taro**: News reports?

**Kanra**: Mmhm! Another murder in Ikebukuro, apparently... which makes it-

**Kanra**: The third one this week?

**Setton**: That's horrible...

**Tanaka Taro**: I agree with Setton-san... do they have any idea of who did it?

**Kanra**: Not yet, nope~ Although I heard their head was bashed in. Scary, isn't it?

**Setton**: I hope they catch whoever it was soon.

**Tanaka Taro**: Yeah...

**Kanra**: They say it might be the same person committing the crimes,

**Kanra**: Since it's all been done in such a short time span.

**Kanra**: Though the causes of death are different for all three...

**Kanra**: Wah, Kanra-chan is scared!~ orz

**Tanaka Taro**: Could it be gang-related?

**Tanaka Taro**: -Ah, sorry, I have to go.

**Setton**: Same. They're about to reveal the aliens!

**Kanra**: Eh?

**Kanra**: No one will stay and comfort me in my time of need?

**Tanaka Taro**: Sorry, Kanra-san. Talk to you later, you two.

_Tanaka Taro-san has left the chatroom._

**Setton**: ...Goodnight!

_Setton-san has left the chatroom._

**Kanra**: How mean!

_Kanra-san has left the chatroom._

He stretches his arms above his head as he too exits the chatroom, lightly pushing off the ground with his foot to spin around in his chair. Giggles escape his lips as he spins until he's dizzy, then he places his foot down to act as an anchor.

"It looks like things are getting interesting again."

There's no one else in the room, but this doesn't stop him from speaking to no one at all. He stands and looks out his window, pressing a slim hand to the glossy surface.

"Looks like I'll have to take a visit up to Ikebukuro soon. Things are getting interesting again..."

He can see his reflection in the window, surrounded by the dozens and dozens of bright, multi-colored city lights outside it. His lips curl up in a smirk in his anticipation, and his mirrored image does the same.

Izaya positively, absolutely cannot _wait _to see what kind of display his precious humans will show him this time.

* * *

A/N: So... yeah. I know it's kind of vague, but I'd like to leave people in suspense! At least, I'm gonna try...

Please, please review~ I'm not sure how well received this will be, so please, let me know if you think I should continue.

Criticisms, opinions, and love are greatly welcomed! :)


	2. you were just steam coming off the road

**A/N:** Thank you Lystrious and Nixxy for the reviews! :) I hope that I don't let you down. Here's the next chapter, but be warned: there is **DRUG USAGE** and mention of what it's like to be on said drugs, naughty words, and ... some other stuff. Not enough to be rated M yet, but eventually, this story will probably get bumped up to that.

The title of this chapter comes from the song The Telescope by Her Space Holiday.

Anyway, please enjoy.

I don't own Durarara.

* * *

_we're ripped at the seams and we're covered in scars_

_you were just steam coming off the road_

**chapter one**

The bar's small, glowing sign outside is partially blinking while only the other part remains lit. When she peers inside a thin, horizontal window, she can only slightly see into what appears to be a rather dismal bar. This is the place Mayonaka chooses.

She practically floats in there - at least she _feels _like she's floating; she knows better, knows it's the ecstasy she popped about an hour ago at the club she was just at - attracting all the wrong types of stares. The kind of stares that she imagines cautious mothers would warn their innocent daughters about.

Inside, it's not that crowded. Twelve, maybe fifteen patrons are sitting scattered around, and only two men sit at the actual bar itself. Her fingers absently caress the other pill she's placed in folded up cellophane, safely stowed away in the pocket of her cropped leather bomber.

If by some chance, she thinks that if the time or whatever mood feels right, she'll take it in a little bit. So Mayonaka keeps walking, high heels clicking (_to a musical rhythm only her drug addled mind can dance to_) until she reaches the bar.

She pulls a stool out and settles on it, closing her eyes. It feels good to do so, but even though the lights in here are dim and grungy, she can still see patches of light when she does. The stains left on the inside of her eyelids are from the erratic, neon strobe lights at the club, green and blue and all the other colors of the rainbow. The music here isn't as hard or fast, it isn't even dance music. To her, it sounds melancholy, almost. Whatever it is, it sounds beautiful to her ears, and she can feel her body unwinding, almost melting to the soft strumming of a guitar.

"What would you like, sweetie?" Her eyes are open again in a flash, and after a few seconds spent on refocusing her sight, she sees it's a bland looking, middle aged man. The bartender. He clears his throat and repeats the question.

And while what Mayonaka would _really_ like is for the bartender's beady eyes to stop giving her an appreciative up and down eye fuck, all that comes out is, "Glass of whiskey, please. On the rocks."

She hates when people look at her like that. But it is what comes after provoking those looks that pays her, though, and (_i'll rip your eyeballs out, you son of a bitch_) so she supposes she's gradually accepted it.

The bartender breaks his lingering stare to nod and go pour her drink. She slowly looks around the room, scoping out any potential customers, and realizes with a dry sort of distaste that they're all old, rowdy men yelling about shit that no one cares about.

Changing her focus to aim down the bar at the only other people sitting there, she mentally dubs them Blondie and Suit. They're murmuring and laughing quietly to themselves and throwing shots back, although she notes that the blond (_h__ow ironic, _she thinks, _a man in a bartender suit sitting at one instead of working at it_) makes a face at the bitter liquid.

She simply cannot afford to be picky, but she feels that she's fucked enough old men to be entitled to some younger ones, and besides, she's rolling so goddamn _hard _-

The solid clink of a thick glass on the counter top in front of her regains her attention. She thanks the leering bartender and takes a sip of her drink, waiting for him to go away. Once he does, she takes out the folded cellophane package from her pocket. She fumbles with it a little because her hands are shaky, but it still comes free, and she still swallows the little, round pill and washes it down with whiskey.

Mayonaka has no idea which one it will be, Blondie or Suit, that she will coerce to take her home. But at this point, in the midst of her own special brand of being fucked up, she doesn't really give a shit. She decides to take a gamble and sidles over the few barstools until she's sitting next to Blondie.

It seems that the ball in her two slotted roulette has already landed, though, when Suit gets up and stretches.

"Well," he says, "I've gotta go get some rest. I need my beauty sleep, you know?" He scratches at his dreads and pats Blondie on the shoulder.

In response, Blondie takes a full shot out of many empty ones that are laid out in front of him and waves a dismissing hand. "Sure, Tom-san. I'll see you tomorrow."

"You're staying?" Suit (_T__om? _she tries to correct herself, but realizes there's no point in getting his name right and forgets about it) questions, and she hears the surprise in his voice as she pretends to be checking something on her cell. Really, though, whatever is on the bright little screen in front of her is too blurry for her to focus on, but no one else knows that.

"Yeah. I just need to," Blondie struggles a bit with his next words, "clear my head." Suit gives an understanding nod and says a final goodbye before stumbling outside, and Blondie calls for another shot.

She gulps down the rest of her whiskey before lightly slamming it down with enough force to make the man next to her glance in her direction. Before his alcohol-clouded gaze can wander away from her, she turns her head to meet his eyes.

"Hi," Mayonaka says simply and nonchalantly.

Now she's trying hard not to let her eyes roll up into the back of her skull (_god, these are some good bombs_, she thinks absently), but finds that it's somewhat easier to get lost in this stranger's eyes, anyway. He continues to stare back at her, and without breaking their mutual inspection of each other, she waves a hand for the bartender.

"Hey," Blondie replies, then blinks.

He's got a real nice face, the kind she would probably see on a model somewhere. Even in this shitty lighting, his hair makes her think _sunny_, and his eyes bring up the word _coffee._ She kind of feels like she's hit the jackpot. At least, she will soon.

"By yourself, huh?" She asks, even though she knows the answer.

The bartender places another shot and another glass of whiskey down before them, then walks down a ways to polish glasses. Blondie finishes the newly arrived shot, and she curls her hand around her sweating glass.

"Me too," she adds, even though he hasn't even acknowledged her question.

She takes a swig of her whiskey and leans an elbow on the bar, resting her head in her palm. "I'm Risa."

He seems like he doesn't really know what to do. Like he doesn't know whether to ignore her or not, and she feels a little bit of surprise. Things like this were easy for her; she certainly wasn't ugly. So why the hesitation?

"Bartender," she calls, "Another shot of whatever he's drinking. For him."

He looks at her again, but she doesn't face him. She stares ahead of her at the bottles lining the shelves, mind undulating again to the music. She knows that while she is doing this, he is no doubt studying her profile. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see a shot get put down in front of Blondie, and he tosses it back before looking at her again.

"Shizuo," he says with a slight slur, and she turns to him once more.

His name sounds familiar, but she can't put her finger on it. In fact, it hurts her head to try, so she doesn't. It's not important, anyway.

"Shizuo." She echoes and smiles, but the upwards lift of her mouth is because of the drugs pumping through her body. But again, no one else knows that.

Mayonaka leans close to him, close enough that she can smell what he's been drinking (_whiskey, like her_) and puts her lips right next to the shell of his ear.

"I'm feeling kind of lonely tonight, _Shizuo..._" she whispers softly, then retracts her head a bit to get a look at his face.

That handsome face of his looks like it's having some kind of inner battle. (_girlfriend? wife?_) Not that she cares about that. She messes around with enough taken men to be called a home wrecker with reason. Either way, one of those sides better win soon (_let it be the one that wants to get off_) because she's starting to feel slightly antsy. She blames it on the bombs, takes another sip of her glass, and waits.

And Shizuo, he does not know what the hell to make of this situation. Neither does he know what to think of the young woman who is sitting next to him and peering at him. Sure, he can list out a physical description (_short dark hair, pretty face, rosary dangling in between her nice rack), _but he's drunk off his ass, and apparently, she's feeling lonely.

And since he's so damn wasted, he says, "Yeah? ... Me too." The young woman (_R__isa, _his inebriated mind reminds him) places a delicate hand on his thigh as his eyes follow_, _then snap back to her face.

He thinks that her eyes might be a dark green color, but he's not sure. He can only see a thin rim of color around pupils that are as wide as saucers, but he assumes it's because of the dark lighting in the bar. Her big eyes and his seem to make a mutual agreement once they meet.

In a strange, almost synchronized movement, they both dig in their clothes to retrieve money for their drinks. Even though he's _this _drunk, he still tries to be a gentleman and puts some money near her drink to pay for it, but she slides it back to him.

"Save it while you have it," Risa says, and puts down a bill to pay for the one shot she bought him. He only pauses for a moment to think that it's an odd statement to make, but he shrugs and puts it back into his pocket.

Shizuo does not do things like this. He never goes to the bar, never gets incredibly smashed, certainly never takes home random women with whom he's only exchanged a few words with. But if he's going to be honest with himself, as one often is after drinking as much as he has, he figures this is as good a place and time to do it. He still retains a bit of hesitance, though, but he thinks that he cannot be put at fault for it.

He is not one for intimacy - maybe he is, maybe he could be, but he does not know since no one has ever been close enough to him in _that way _for him to find out. At twenty three, he has not had sex yet (_because you're a fucking monster monster monster) _because no one wants to get hurt for the sake of him losing his virginity. And because he does not blame them, he has let it go, albeit with some difficulty.

But when he tells Risa his name is Shizuo (_because his first name is enough to make people do a double take_) and no spark of recognition or fear enters her eyes, and she actually _smiles, _he feels something he hasn't felt in a long time towards this subject; hope. Just a little bit, even though part of his too far from sober mind screams out _opportunity!_ to him, and to take it before it is gone.

Even as the other part is yelling that he might seriously injure this girl who doesn't have a clue who (_or what kind of beast you are) _he is, the opportunist in him succeeds. They both get down from the barstools, still moving like they're each one half of the same body, and make their way out.

Mayonaka has no idea what to expect when they step into his apartment a short walk later. It's a bit dirty, but it's still a hell of a lot nicer than hers, and she slips off her high heels before she takes any more steps inside. He does the same, and she grabs his hand to lead him to the bedroom as he drunkenly gives directions.

Once they reach his bed, she lets go and sprawls out on her back on top of the covers, half lidded eyes looking glazed over as she starts unbuttoning the short, red shirt-dress she has on. She is three quarters of the way done when he joins her on the bed.

"Risa," he slurs, "Risa, I-"

But he doesn't really know what he was going to say. He's not sure if he was about to tell her he's a virgin, or if he is about to warn her and give her one more chance to grab her shit and bolt out the door, but it doesn't matter when she takes his hands again and places them on the rest of her buttons. His hands do the rest of the talking for him. After he's done, she slips off the black thigh highs she's wearing and scoots further back onto the bed.

And everything after that, as drunk as he is, Shizuo knows he will remember this, remember _Risa_ for the rest of his life - he doesn't think he could possibly forget about the first woman who allows (_a brute like_) him to fuck her.

* * *

When Mayonaka wakes up, it's only been an hour or so since they've finished. Blondie's passed out next to her, his chest moving up and down steadily in his sleep. She's wide awake since the E is sending another wave of indescribable feelings through her, and it's not like she was really sleeping, anyway. Trying to sleep on ecstasy, she has learned, will only bring you to a state of what she thinks must be meditation.

She looks at him again, hazy eyes studying his face. It was quite a strange experience, to her. Unlike the other men she slept with, he had kept going until she came, and honestly, she thinks she might have never orgasmed before this. She could sense hesitance in every touch, and the way he was so incredibly... (_gentle? considerate? kind?_) She doesn't know, since she has no example to go off of. The way he acted reminds her of a virgin, maybe; but she's not sure, because yet again, there is nothing to show her what that is. Was _she_ ever a virgin? No answer comes to her as she slowly gets up to gather her strewn clothes and put them on.

Fully dressed, she walks to the other side of the bed where his black pants are thrown haphazardly into a pile and stoops down to dig through his pockets, still thinking. The way he first acted had been overwritten by what came after. His clumsy unsureness turned into something she _did_ know. Rough, relentless, hard - her hands find his simple black wallet and bring it out, and she opens it and stares blankly at the bills.

A tiny, gratuitous part of her does not want to take his money. Because even though he was being _rough, relentless, hard_, he would murmur soft things in her ear (_"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry..."_) that made her think he was anything but.

She simply cannot afford giving away a freebie, though, so she grabs a wad of bills and shoves the wallet back into his pants' pocket. When she gets up to stand, she notices that her body is more sore than it ever has been, more sore, even, than when she has an appointment with that sick fuck Yamamoto. As she leaves the bedroom and heads for the door, her mind involuntarily flashes to when he tried kissing her. She had moved her head to the side and instead took her head in his hands and held it to her chest, right next to the rosary she has no idea how she received.

Kisses are unwanted, here; she does not let anyone kiss her, no matter how much more money they offer to pay her. Not because she does not want to become _attached_, or any other silly words like that. She doesn't know the meaning of any of those words, anyway. Maybe it's because she doesn't know _how_ to kiss someone, or kiss them back. She's not even sure if she _has_ kissed or _been _kissed.

Because she does not remember anything that happened in her life before a few months ago. A few months ago (_three, to be exact_), she opened her eyes that might as well have been a newborn's for all she knew about the room she woke up in.

And even though Mayonaka does not remember anything up until three months ago, she knows that if she's going to kiss someone (_give her _first _kiss in this _second _life she has woken up into_), she would like it to be someone who has taught her the meaning of _attached_, and all the silly words she secretly wishes she could recall.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, I hope you liked it, and I hope I kept up the dark atmosphere well enough. Yes, Mayonaka's not really a good girl... Either next chapter or the chapter afterwards will have Izaya, so hold tight until then, please~ Also, some plot development soon, as well.

Please, please review and let me know what you think. Seriously, I wanna know if people are liking wherever they think this is heading, what they think of Mayonaka, if I kept them in character or not... Really, I'm honestly wary of how I portrayed Shizuo in this chapter. And I took the liberty to assume he's a virgin because it doesn't seem like anyone would willingly want to go near him, save for random women trying to alleviate their debt.

So ease my troubled mind and let me know! Pleaaase~

Review? I will somehow canoodle a free ride on Izaya's spinny chair (Lystrious! I know, right?) for you if you do...

:) Thanks for reading and _hopefully _reviewing.


	3. i heard you fell into a rabbit hole

**A/N**: Thank you Nixxy, Lystrious, and Just Anon :) You guys totally float my boat! Yeah, I feel like I'm definitely going to have to bump this up to M soon...

The chapter title comes from the group Bright Eyes.

I don't own Durarara.

* * *

_i heard you fell into a rabbit hole_

_tell me where'd you go for days and days_

**chapter two**

When she wakes up, she has a horrible, pounding headache. The kind of headache that sits in between her ears and smashes a hammer around her skull, and it hurts so bad that she can only clench her eyes tightly and waits for it to pass. She wishes she could blame it on the E hangover from last night, but she cannot; she's been having these migraines since last week, even on days when she didn't get high the previous night.

Once the feeling passes enough for her to open her eyes, she slowly rolls over on her side to sleepily pick up her cellphone. Her eyes scan over the screen (_it's approximately 2:14 pm in the afternoon on a saturday_) and she notices the little envelope in the corner that signals she has a new text message. Blearily, Mayonaka rubs her eyes and sits up a little and goes to her inbox.

_Risa-chan,_

_I know we have agreed to meet later this week, but I really need to see you tonight_. _I will pay you triple the usual amount._

_Please let me know._

It was from Yamamoto. Her eyes linger over the courteous text (_so different from what you're actually like, old fuck_), specifically _triple the amount_, and then she types a message back:

_11 pm, usual place_

She hits the send button. She doesn't really want to meet up with him. Every molecule and atom and whatever else she is made up of is (telling her_ no no no, he's the worst out of all of them_) against the idea. The money, though, is something she could use, so she tells her instincts to shut the hell up and get over it.

It's unusual, but she's actually hungry. Normally after she rolls, she feels no urge to eat whatsoever, but she thinks she might have been doing it so much she's starting not to be bothered with most of the after effects. She stares at her ceiling and wills herself to get up, like she does everyday. When she finally does, she looks at herself in the mirror that's on top of her bureau.

There's bags under her eyes, but it isn't anything that can't be concealed with make-up. Her face is pale, lips dry; her short hair is ruffled in every which way direction, so she tries to make it look presentable before she goes out to silence her now grumbling stomach. But before she does anything, she needs her morning cigarette, badly. Once she lights one up, she strokes the cross on her rosary and thinks about how later tonight will be. None of the scenarios she comes up with are pleasant - for her (_he'll get his just wait he'll get it tenfold_), at least.

She thinks about how _sore_ she is from last night (_it'll only get worse after you meet up with the old fuck_), from Blondie; and at the thought of him, abstractly wonders if he's realized he's missing money yet.

* * *

Shizuo blinks groggily as he awakens, and tries to lift his head up, but he can't because it feels like it's filled with a million gallons of whiskey sloshing around. He doesn't think he's ever been more grateful it's his day off. When he looks at the small digital alarm clock lying next to his bed, he groans at the fact it's almost three in the afternoon. This is only one of the reasons he doesn't go drink himself silly.

He musters up the strength to get up and runs a hand through his hair. Staring blankly at the wall he's facing, what happened after the bar last night is suddenly remembered, and for a second he's speechless, or would be if he was even talking out loud. He can't even believe it himself, and he thinks he might even be _thought_less if that's possible. Regardless, he is thinking about it (_she said her name was Risa_), because there isn't anyway he can't. It makes him feel normal, just a bit, to know he has chipped away part of what makes him so damn different from everyone else, even if it is only something as simple as getting laid.

The blond likes this sense of normalcy, so he attempts to bring up her image, and does so without much difficulty. He cannot forget the face of someone who has managed to bring him a feeling he has only chased and turned his back on. Shizuo remembers her charcoal black hair, the choppy ends and mussed bangs.

Wide green (_couldn't tell at first until he got a good look at her inside his apartment, inside __her_) eyes, green like the shaded grass you would find under a tree. He does not remember clearly what she was wearing, since she has made the most of her impression on him in the time they spent unclothed, but he knows that she kept that clear beaded rosary on the whole time. He looks next to where he is sitting on the bed.

She's not lying there, and he knows this, but it might be something he considers a good thing that she isn't. He also, unfortunately, remembers that he lost control (_what else did you expect to happen you know you're a monster_) halfway. Shizuo knows this because the sounds of pleasure that came from the lips that she would not allow him to kiss became diluted with a tinge of pain; guilt comes over him like a tidal wave, and he frowns. Yes, it's a good thing she isn't here, because he doesn't know what he would say (_i'm sorry i treated you like that, Risa, whoever you are_) anyway.

Twenty minutes later, Shizuo has pulled himself together enough to make a trip to the convenience store on the corner. He must have smoked all his cigarettes last night, and now he's craving one with intensity. When he reaches the store, he goes to the back to grab a bottle a milk before heading back to the cashier. He tells the clerk what brand of cigarettes he wants, and takes his wallet out. He opens it up, and although there is enough to pay for the milk and cigarettes, there is _definitely _three quarters less than what had been in there last night.

He does not want to admit it was her, but he can't deny it. The wallet had been filled when he pulled it out to pay for his drinks last night, and now he feels like a total fool as his grip tightens around his wallet. He must look like murder, because he can see the clerk eye him nervously from behind his blue sunglasses. A pissed off growl escapes him, and the clerk probably thinks it's directed at him.

The clerk slides the milk and pack of cigarettes to Shizuo with shaky hands. "J-Just t-t-take it!"

Shizuo glares at him, rips the money out of his wallet and throws it down on the counter. The clerk merely gulps as he grabs his purchases and storms out of the store.

He is absolutely furious, but he finds it is mostly at himself. He should've known (_that the smile last night meant nothing except she knew she was getting an easy swindle_) something was up; things like that never happen to him, ever. Why would they suddenly start happening now? He wishes he was working today, because at least then he could release some of this anger. He thinks he might even want to see Izaya, just to be able to throw something at that irritating face of his.

All he knows is that if he wasn't able to forget her before, he definitely can't now.

* * *

It's quarter to eleven in the evening, and Mayonaka is steeling herself for what she is certain lies ahead. The fifteen minutes she spends in this dirty motel room doing this passes by too quick for her liking, and a knock on the door sounds throughout the otherwise quiet room. She slowly gets up and goes to the door, unlocks it, then closes it again as Yamamoto steps inside.

"I appreciate this, Risa-chan." Without delay (_speed up the process it'll be over before you know it_) she slips her dress off over her head, then takes off her thigh highs and shoes.

He gives her a (_disgusting_) smile. "Eager tonight, are you? Don't worry, I'm in no rush." He's standing in the bathroom, and he starts unbuttoning his white collared shirt. "Work has been very stressful lately - I'm sure you've heard - and you know how I get when I'm stressed..."

Yamamoto quickly sheds his remaining clothes, hangs them over the shower rod, and advances upon her. She wishes she could shrink back, but knows she can't. So when Yamamoto pushes her to the bed, eying her hungrily (_stop looking at me like that stop it stop it_), she does not twitch a single traitorous muscle.

The session is only twenty minutes or so in, and she thinks that he's never been this rough - and for Yamamoto, who leaves her aching and sore and bruised on a normal day, it is saying something. He is cursing at her and calling her terrible things, because that's what he likes. Her head bangs against the headboard with every movement, and she can feel a headache coming on again. His heavy weight is settled on top of her, trapping her, and she utterly despises it.

And then, he is coming, and he grabs onto her throat. His eyes are drinking in (_stop looking at me like that you old fuck stop stop_) the strained look on her face like a man who has been in the desert far too long. She's choking, and he's squeezing her skinny throat tighter and tighter and tighter in his blind pleasure, and-

_hail mary full of grace the lord is_

"-trouble, walking around like that. And no shoes, either?"

It is like someone has removed a blindfold from her eyes; like someone has plucked her from one scene in her life to another, except she has no idea what her lines are or the setting. Her eyes dart around until they land on a young man in a dark jacket with fur trim.

Mayonaka is no longer in the squalid motel room. She is not being choked and trapped under that horrible weight. She is standing on an overpass, next to a railing, and she can see a deserted portion of street when she looks over the side. She tries to grasp onto anything familiar, something that will not make her feel so lost and confused, and notices with a small degree of relief it is the overpass she goes over to get to her apartment.

Now she notices that cold is starting to climb up her legs from her feet, and she looks down. She is not wearing any shoes, and when she tries to back up, her feet start to sting. Trailing her eyes up from her legs, she notices that she isn't wearing any of her clothes, either. Her coat is not there, her dress isn't there - she is wearing (_Yamamoto's?_) a big white dress shirt, buttoned only far enough to be tiptoeing over the line of decent. The glass beaded rosary is the only thing she owns that is actually on her person.

"What a strange girl! All banged up, too..." The person speaks again, but she is still looking herself over, patting herself with a growing fervency.

She notices her hands are stained with a reddish-brown color, and there is crust of the same color (_blood? is it mine is it his what the fuck happened_) underneath her fingernails and in between her fingers. There are dark, small splotches on the pocket of the shirt, and some items (_two of them are round_) are bulging out. She wants to reach in and see what it is, wants to see anything that might give her a clue how she ended up here with no memory of having done so. Before she can do this, the man speaks again.

"Or maybe you've already gotten into trouble?" He has a smirk on his face, and it only widens when her eyes flash to him like a cornered wild animal's would.

The man is looking down his nose at her, and she does not like it. The way he stands under a flickering street lamp with his face upturned towards the light sends a glow to his eyes, and she cannot help but be transfixed by them. They are dark, dark red (_red just like the blood on your hands isn't it so pretty_) and she feels like they are laughing at her, too, just like his lilting voice.

She opens her mouth to speak, and it doesn't work the first time because her throat is dry, scratchy, and it hurts. Mayonaka raises a blood stained hand to massage at her throat, then tries again. "Who are you?" Her voice sounds a lot braver than she feels, and for that, she is thankful. "Did you take me here?"

He is still looking at her condescendingly with a sneer, but he has started laughing again. "D-did _I-"_ He stammers out between sharp chuckles, "take _you_ here?" He is now pinching the inside corners of his eyes, and one of his hands clutches his stomach as he bends over from the force of his mirth. "Silly girl... you must've taken yourself here!" He exclaims, then drops his hands into his pockets and steps towards her.

"I'm _dying_ to know, so please, tell me..." He is still taking slow, sure strides toward her. He is grinning (_big bad wolf_), and she can see that his teeth are white even in the dim light. "... how you got so interesting?"

His voice is quiet, yet it reverberates in her mind as something dangerous, and she wishes she was not rooted to the spot. "Ah, how did I get so lucky to find someone like you?"

Mayonaka wishes anything would happen to stop him, because now he is less than a foot away. "I mean, really-"

And like that, her wish comes true as a deep, enraged scream cuts through the night air. Both her and this strange man turn their heads to the direction it came from, and (_oh fuck fuck_)it's Blondie.

The quickly approaching footsteps are still going strong, and she still cannot move as Blondie charges towards them like a bull. The man swivels his head back to her. "I certainly hope we meet again. You know, I have a funny feeling that we will!"

And in a snap, he is gone and racing into the dark, and she cannot see a single trace of him left. He has done his disappearing act in the short time it takes Blondie to get there, and he lets out an angry growl when he realizes the dark haired man has seamlessly escaped. She urges her feet to move; she doesn't necessarily want to get beaten by the man who she stole money from last night, not really. Her foot moves forward, towards the direction she knows her house is in, and he suddenly notices her when he stops glaring out into the murky darkness of the city (_wherever that man has gone?_).

She keeps moving forward, except she's facing backwards to watch him cautiously. Those coffee eyes widen as he gets a good look at her face, and she knows he remembers her.

"Oi..." He starts, and she turns to the right direction and begins running. She ignores the pain spiking up her legs from her bloody feet, because it is nothing next to the pain Blondie could probably have her feel. "Come back here!"

Blondie is fast, because she is running at full speed and he is catching up to her, fast. She urges herself to go faster, and then darts around a corner, then around another and another to try and lose him. It may mean she'll have extra ground to cover on her way home, but it's better than being caught by a man who has been one-upped by someone like her.

It must work, because the footsteps have disappeared from behind her, and she leans against the brick wall of an alley to catch her breath. While she was running, a keyring has started coming out of the pocket. Pulling them out, she realizes it's her house keys. She pants and looks to the side, and judges by the familiar shop lined street that her place is only a few blessed minutes away.

There are a few people milling about, so she takes a deep breath and hurtles herself out there, aiming to get to her complex as fast as she possibly can. She's sure nothing good can come from people seeing a young woman dressed in nothing but a blood splotched, big dress shirt. Mayonaka scrapes by with only a couple odd, disinterested looks.

It feels like it's been forever when she reaches her door, and she unlocks the door hastily with her newly found keys, then locks the door and slumps down it. She swallows and remembers the rest of the items in her pocket, and reaches in. She feels something flat and smooth, and it's her cellphone. She looks at it for a few seconds, and decides to look at it in a little bit to see if she has made any calls during the time period she can't remember. There's still something in her pocket, though, so she pulls whatever it is out (_why does it feel so-_) and brings it up to her face to inspect her findings.

And once she does, she just can't help the bloodcurdling scream that rips itself from her lips, because there's two, glossy eyeballs staring at her, cross eyed and lifeless, from her bloody palm.

* * *

Soooo ... was anyone expecting that? Haha, so much for the 'suspense' part, I guess~ But at least there's still the 'horror' to look forwards to! And I had Izaya make a little appearance for now - Please let me know if I had him (and everyone else) in character, and how you felt about the way he enters in the story this chapter! Just curious, I love hearing from you guys. :)

And as always, I'd love to hear what you think about Mayonaka, any other opinions, love, criticisms... you know the deal. And I'm not sure if anyone has seen this on my Author's Note for the latest chapter of Heart Station, but the **twentieth person** who reviews this story will get a gift-fic from me~ So yeah! Motivation right there, right? I think/hope? And besides, more reviews leads to faster updates...

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed.


	4. the devil is in the details

**A/N**: All I can say is wow. Thanks for all the reviews! LeMuffin, Cookie, Lystrious, Just Anon, Nixxy, DreamWalker, Shadowedice, Zetsubou Mao, Kawii, New, Yumi, Puffpopcorn, and YoraRaids; Seriously, if my boat was floating before, I feel like I may be able to go back in time and save the Titanic now!

**LeMuffin**: Of course you can ride on the vending machine instead! And Mayonaka means midnight... If I'm wrong, feel free to shoot me!

**Cookie**: Ah, really? I've never seen Baccano, but now I'm curious to see if there's a resemblance~

**Lystrious**: I'm glad I was able to keep you on your toes! Hopefully I don't let you down, because you always have the best reviews for little old me!

**Shadowedice**: Yes, definitely different from my other stories! And it's not so much that she has 'backbone' than it is that she doesn't know of his reputation. Oh, and the italicized thoughts are supposed to be all lettercase, ahah, I'm sorry ~

**YoraRaids**: I would love love love a picture, haha. :)

And I said that whoever got the 20th review would get a request fic from me, sooo congratulations **puffpopcorn**! PM me, and let us make some magic happen.

I'm considering doing that every 20 reviews, by the way, just because I like the prospects of being challenged to write... and it's a nice thing to do for you guys, as well! I think... Right? Right?

I don't own Durarara.

* * *

_you can never dream it down_

_the devil's in the details_

**chapter three**

The screaming eventually ends after Mayonaka has no more breath left, and she has thrown the gruesome discovery down on the floor in her terror. They bounce, then roll as she makes a clumsy run for the bathroom. She immediately kneels at the toilet and vomits up everything she has eaten that day, which is not much. Once everything is out of her system, she closes the lid and leans her sweating forehead on it. (_what the fuck what the fuck it can't be_) But when she turns her weary head to the open door, there is no denying it.

Those eyes seemed to have purposely rolled to the doorway, and she turns her head in the opposite direction to avoid dry heaving. Yes, there's no way she can deny it; the dark gray eyes that are still staring at her, even though they are not attached to anything at all, they are Yamamoto's.

Mayonaka has looked into those eyes too many times, has memorized the irises and pupils that will no longer disgust her; she would only be lying to herself if she said they weren't. She shuts her eyes tightly before she reaches under the sink to grab a pair of rubber gloves.

She needs to get rid of them somehow; so she gets to her bloody feet, steps over Yamamoto's optical organs, and surveys her apartment. Looking around, she realizes has no idea what the fuck she will do with them (_grind them up_); and then, her gaze lands on the sink.

A minute later, she stands in front of the kitchen sink. She opens her obnoxiously bright yellow gloved hands, and the eyes _plop! _into the sink, and she feels like they're still staring at her even as they disappear down the drain. She turns on the tap and flips up the switch for the garbage disposal, and flinches when a bit of gore flies up from the force of the churning blades and lands on her cheek.

Mayonaka gags and wipes it away with a whimper, and she has to keep herself from throwing up nothing again. Eventually, the garbage disposal becomes less noisy as what was inside has been completely ground up. She turns it off, takes the gloves off and throws them in the trash, and inhales deeply in a poor attempt to calm herself. Plain old air isn't cutting it, though, so she lights up a cigarette and runs a hand through her messy hair.

She goes to the bathroom, but this time, it is to take a look at herself. She rests her shaky hands on the side of the cool, porcelain sink, and stares good and hard at her reflection (_i need to remember try try_). It is the first time she has looked at herself since she left to meet up with Yamamoto, and she looks like complete shit. She takes a drag and ashes into the sink, blowing smoke out into the mirror.

It swirls and fogs up momentarily, and it seems kind of symbolic and ironic to her, all at the same time. She returns to examining herself, and notices the bags under her eyes have grown bigger, and her right eye is starting to turn an ugly, mottled purple. (_he fought back he lost at least you still have yours_)

She flips through her brain like a catalogue, but she still can't remember shit. Mayonaka replays the most recent things; Yamamoto on top of her, choking her. Maybe she started to raise a hand in protest, or she could have just ran away - but she does not remember, so she is only shooting in the dark. Then there was the young man, the one with the too wide smile and eyes that shined too bright for being colored so dark.

Then, it hits her. He had been talking to her when she had come back from wherever she had been; she hopes beyond hope that maybe, just maybe, she had talked to him too; said something that might give her _anything_. That perhaps he knows something she doesn't. She tightens her jaw as she unbuttons the shirt and kicks it in the corner. She still has to dispose of it, but she has other things on her mind right now.

No idea comes to her on how to find the man again. She has no idea who he is, because he is only one out of an impossible number that occupy the city. And Mayonaka, she has no friends (_maybe i did once upon a time_)_. _There is no one to even ask about him.

And if she doesn't know who he is, would anyone else? She racks through her mind again, to try and think and think and think, but there is nothing but static. She needs someone who knows who that man is, but-

Her hand freezes as she reaches it out to turn the shower on when she is struck again by a possibility.

Blondie.

* * *

It's been fifteen minutes since Shizuo lost track of her, so he does not know why he's still prowling around the same area like some sort of stalker. He hadn't expected to see her tonight; honestly, he expected to never see her again. When he had spotted that fucking flea Izaya standing there, looking for all the world like a too tempting target, of course he had to do something about it (_not like your rage would let you do otherwise_). Anything to get Izaya out of the city_. His _city.

And like usual, he runs away with seemingly no effort, which only pisses him off more. But then he had gotten to where the bastard himself was standing, and lo and behold; Risa is there. But the Risa he saw is a far cry from the put together young woman he met at the bar.

No, it didn't look her at all. It is dark, yes, but he isn't so blind as to ignore the fact she was barefoot in the street and wearing only a dirty (_it looked bloody but it had to have been the dark_) white dress shirt. She bore no resemblance to the one who had let him touch her so unabashedly, the one who stole money right from under his nose.

Shizuo had called out to her, but she had run away. For being barefoot, she sure had been faster than he expected her to be. But that leads him to thinking about what he would do if she had instead turned and greeted him (_which wouldn't happen because she stole your goddamn money_). The question he's asking himself now, it's the same one he had no answer for earlier when he woke up and stared at the empty space next to him.

But then he remembers she was standing next to _Izaya_, and anger boils inside of him at the possibility Izaya set it up, just to make him feel as foolish as he did. Because even though Izaya is a fucking bastard, Shizuo can still very, _very_ grudgingly admit he's a _smart _fucking bastard, and would plan something like that just because he _knows _it will make Shizuo feel stupid and angry. Even so, though, it still does not explain her strange choice of apparel.

He scuffs the cement beneath his feet and stops walking to lean against the front window of a closed store. It's getting late; it's technically the next day, now. After he finishes this cigarette, he'll leave. He will leave, and he will forget about (_Risa_) that thieving girl, forget about his mortal enemy until the next time he can smell his stench lingering in his city.

The street he's on is quiet, like the rest of the area, but out of nowhere the silence is broken by rapid footsteps coming his way. He doesn't give a shit, though, so he doesn't bother to look. He takes a last drag then stomps it out with his foot, and he begins to take his first step in the direction of his apartment when there is a yell.

"Wait!" He stops, foot still in the air, and his head slowly turns to look over his shoulder. He hasn't heard that voice much. He doesn't even need all ten fingers to count the times he has, but he knows that it is her.

Shizuo turns around to face her, and she slows down to catch her breath. She stops a few feet away from him, and lifts her head to meet his eyes that, for once, are unreadable.

"Sh... Shizuo, right?" She breathes out, and he's tempted to tell her to fuck off (_she doesn't even remember your name_) when she comes closer, and her dim figure is brightened under the street lamp she now stands under. Risa still has the haggard look from earlier, but she's got shoes on, at least, and she's dressed somewhat properly now in a baggy sweatshirt over jeans. Then he sees she has a nasty looking black eye, something he neglected to notice when he chased after her, and (_wonder who she fucked over to get that_) despite some contradictory thoughts, he feels anger simmering in his gut when he sees it.

Mostly at the fact someone had hit a female, because he is appalled by people that do such a thing; but he cannot lie to himself that a small part has to do with the fact someone hit _Risa. _Oh, he's still pissed off that she stole from him, but he cannot deny that he feels he might owe her (_just a little bit_) for giving him an experience he'll probably never know again.

He gives her an almost imperceptible nod, and she comes closer. "I need your help," she says, and he wants to scoff right in her face.

"I'm sure you don't want to, but I need your help." She repeats, and does not look away, or act ashamed for anything she has done to him in the past twenty four hours. She walks closer and holds out her clenched hand, then looks at his which is lying by his side. She raises her chin in the direction of it, and he lifts his hand up simply because he's curious. Why she would run away from him, only to run _to _him - it beats him.

She brings her hand to his, and then his money is suddenly in its rightful place, back in his palm. Without skipping a beat or taking a wary step back, she continues. "I need your help." Risa says again, and he dryly notices there is still no apology from her for stealing from him.

"My help." He doesn't question, but rather, states. He doesn't know what she needs his help for. Unless, maybe she _has_ heard of him. Maybe that black eye is from some asshole boyfriend who she would like him to beat the shit out of.

"You're the only one I know of that can." She doesn't say please, either, but now he wants to know what she could possibly need him for so badly that she has been running around in the middle of the night looking for him.

"Why is that?" Even though he smoked a cigarette a minute ago, he has a feeling he'll be needing one very, very soon. He lights one up, and Risa waits for him to exhale the first puff before going on.

"Earlier-"

"When you ran away?" He can't resist throwing it in there, but she does not glare or pout at him for interrupting her, and he gets annoyed that she can seem so calm when he isn't.

"Yes." Like before, she continues unfettered, "Earlier. You seemed to know that man." She steps closer, and now she's so close that if he moves forward he will bump into her. "I need to find him."

And that cigarette is wasted, now, because it snaps underneath his fingertips and falls to the sidewalk. "What the _fuck _would you need to find him for?"

"He might know something that I..." She pauses. "Something that I need to know."

He resists the urge to roll his eyes at the stony faced young woman that is daring to be so close to him. "Of course he knows shit. He's a fucking informant, the bastard..." Just talking about him is riling him up, and Shizuo takes a step back (_just in case_) from her.

She must have no sense of personal space, because she closes in again. "You don't understand." Risa insists, and her mossy eyes stare into his own brown ones determinedly, as if she can will him to assist her if she puts enough thought to it.

"I don't." He stares right back down at her. "Why don't you explain?" Shizuo sees her bites her lip; it is the first crack in the hardened expression on her face.

"I can't explain it to you." She replies, "You wouldn't understand it."

The blond feels a growl rumbling up from his throat, and he says, "Stop repeating yourself. I don't have a fucking hearing problem!" Really, he can't stand her repetitive answers. It's grating on his nerves, and he wonders why he's even still talking to her.

After he yells, she doesn't say anything. She's still staring at him, though, and then: "Will you help me?"

He grits his teeth, and then she surprises him. "Tell me who he is. Where to find him. I-" Her hand moves up and places itself on the nape of his neck, barely brushing his hair. The other one slides around to the small of his back.

"-I'll let you do whatever you want to me." He can only stare at her for a moment in surprise, but she goes on, "I'll do whatever you want me to do to you. I promise."

And the offer is so tempting to him, even if she does look like shit. Because even though she's got a black eye in full bloom and looks almost sickly pale, there is still some alluring, unnameable quality to her. But the moment of his speechlessness quickly fades and is replaced with reality, and he pushes her away none too gently. Whatever guilt he feels at seeing her stumble backwards, it gets squashed by the growing anger inside.

"So you can fucking rob me again?" He barks, and grows even more displeased when she keeps that smooth look on her face. "No. No, I don't fucking think so!" Shizuo spins on his heel and turns away, but throws a, "And no. I won't help you," over his shoulder before he starts stalking away.

And if he was surprised before, he is even more so now when he feels the fabric of his pants being tugged. He turns and looks down, and Risa is on her knees, ink black hair covering her face. Her hands tighten around his shins. "Please. Tell me. Please, please, please..."

He glares at the top of her head. She's still murmuring _please _into his legs like a prayer, and he wishes he could still turn and walk away. "Get up." Risa remains where she is, and she's still muttering that _same _fucking word. "Get the _fuck _up!"

There is still no sign that she's moving, so he reaches an arm down to grab her arm, and he wrenches her up. "And what the hell did I say about repeating yourself?"

She doesn't say anything, and just looks at him. However, there is a small, hopeful gleam in her eyes, and he is a little pleased with the second fracture in her little tough girl act. "You'll help me?" Her gaze flits around his face as if she's looking for a telltale sign that he'll acquiesce. "Shizuo?"

(_anything you want she'll do anything_) He swallows. He does not want to become the man that takes advantage of girls, but (_she promised she needs your help opportunity!_) no matter how monstrously strong he is - in the end, he is still a red-blooded human male.

And Risa, she seems to be the only one who sees that. She seems to be the only one who will fuck the red-blooded human male that lies underneath a monster's hard scales.

So he says, "I'll help, alright?"

He almost considers rethinking his previous thoughts about taking her up on her offer, but as soon as he says he will help, a faint smile unfurls on her lips. That smile reminds him of the one she had given him the first time they met in that dingy bar, and even though (_it wasn't because of you_) it was fake, it does not fail to ignite something deep in his belly.

"Keep up your side of the deal." Shizuo finally releases his hold on her arm, and she still does not move back. "And don't even _think _about fucking stealing from me."

* * *

It's quiet inside Izaya's place. Namie has gone home for the day; it's late, and he has just gotten back from scouting around Ikebukuro. Lying on top of his bed, Izaya goes through his phone, clicking here and there. Finally, he finds what he is looking for; it's a picture.

But not just _any _picture, no. Inside the lit up square of his cell phone, there is the image of a barefoot girl in a too big dress shirt with dark spots where the pocket should be. There is a vacant smile on her face, and her half-lidded eyes share the same blank quality. The light from his cell phone casts upon his face in a sinister way, despite the gentle blue glow, and he grins.

He had been engaging in his beloved pastime of people watching. Standing on the overpass, he had a perfect view of the street below - but it was practically deserted. He had been there for almost an hour, and only a few random smatterings of couples and people trying to rush home to get out of the cold were to be seen. The informant was about to leave to a different part of the city, to find greener pastures; then, _she_ had neared.

When he looks back on it, it is such a matter of pure _chance_, and he giggles at the sheer coincidence of it all. Had she looked like every other normal person, had she not been in such a state of undress, he knows he would have filed her away as someone just like everyone else; nothing special. He loves his humans, after all, and so he can read what kind of person they are in a single glance. Izaya prides himself on that fact.

But not her. No, the moment he set eyes upon her, he was intrigued. He had questions; why was she dressed like that? Was that blood on her shirt? And her hands? What person in their right mind would walk through the city without shoes? For what reason was she wearing that vacuous expression? He can remember the excitement that built up with his inquiries as she walked closer and closer, and then he had laid a hand on her shoulder to halt her movement.

She did not turn around at the contact, which only delighted him even more that she (_so unique_) did not respond like her normal human kin. He remembers moving to her front to face her, asking her what she was so happy about. She did not answer at first, and it seemed as if she was staring straight through his chest, which was where her eyes reached to. And then, slowly, her dreamy face turned up towards his, her smile still on her lips.

Izaya's grin spreads to the sides of his face as far as it can; he repeats the words she had spoken, shortly before those empty eyes of hers had gained a newfound sense of life.

"He got his. Got it _tenfold_..."

* * *

**A/N**: So... I like this chapter, but I feel a bit nervous about Shizuo's character, particularly the last bit... okay, I'm a lot nervous! Please let me know your opinion on it, it would mean the world to me! I'm glad that so many people are enjoying this story; I'm enjoying writing it. And thank goodness you all like Mayonaka, haha.

So, as usual, give me all your opinions and criticisms and love. More reviews = bigger urge to write = faster updates!

Thank you!


	5. it's just the lines, they get so blurry

**A/N**: Thanks to Yora, Cookie, Lystrious, Nixxy, Just Anon, DreamWalker, and Mako for reviewing! I really appreciate it. :) Although I don't know how last chapter had so many reviews compared to this one, haha... Anyway, I'm glad you guys are enjoying this, because I really like writing it.

Thanks for reading~ 40th reviewer gets a gift fic!

I don't own Durarara.

* * *

_is it possible for two people to need the same thing?_

_it's just the lines, they get so blurry_

**chapter four**

"How many?"

Mayonaka holds up her index and middle finger. The man in front of her nods and begins to rummage through his pocket. She glances around and outside the alley, just to make sure there aren't any police officers prowling around. That's one of the last things she needs right now. The man brings out a clear bag with tons and tons of little, circular pills. He reaches in, pinches up two of them, and hands them to her.

She wordlessly gives him the money, and ignores the pat on her backside and walks away as if she doesn't know him.

She really doesn't. All she knows about him is his phone number, his name (_ryuuji_), and that he's a pervert who sells all different types of drugs. But all Mayonaka fucks around with in his large inventory is ecstasy, so that is what she drops into the cellophane of her cigarette pack as she strides away. She takes out her lighter, ignites it, and seals the opening so they don't fall out, and shoves it in her bra. It would be a waste of money. Money that she doesn't really have.

Now that she's taken care of that, she begins to walk to Blondie's place. She sort of regrets using up her night off to do exactly what she does when she's working, but she needs to. This is not a matter of money. At least, not right now. Right now, this is a matter of her sanity.

She just wants - no, _needs_ to _know._ Know where that man (_wolf eyes wolf smile_) lives, who he is. Know why the hell she had the deceased Yamamoto's eyeballs in her pocket. And know how her body _walking_, _walking_, _walking_, when she was _sleeping_, _sleeping_, _sleeping _in some dark corner of her mind.

And as badly as she had wanted to know everything that there was to offer last night, it had to wait until today. Because in her apartment, there were bloody footprints that had to be cleaned, a bloody shirt that had to be disposed of. And even though Mayonaka is not the most immaculate of people, she at least has the decency to not fuck Blondie with the stench of a dead man still on her.

It's a wonder she even knows how to get to his apartment, but somehow, she makes it there in one piece. Her feet ache dully from last night from within her pumps, but she slowly goes up the stairs anyway and ignores it. She deliberates between a few doors, unsure, before knocking on one. The door opens, but it isn't Blondie. It's a middle aged woman who looks a hell of a lot more respectable than she does, and Mayonaka backs up.

"Wrong door." She glances at the other doors, and the woman narrows her eyes at her. She can tell that she's looking at her clothes distastefully, and considering the way she _is _dressed, she thinks it might be well deserved.

"Who are you looking for?" Mayonaka glances at her. "I've been living here for a while, so I could probably tell you which one is the one you're looking for." The words sound hopeful, but there is an underlying tone of nosiness.

She tells her, "Shizuo."

"Heiwajima?" The woman scowls. "He's two doors down. That way." She jerks her thumb to the right.

Mayonaka does not say thank you and starts to walk away, but the woman speaks up again.

"And tell that Heiwajima to stop throwing things around his apartment!" The woman spits out, "Some people have _normal_ lives they need to get up for in the morning!" And then she slams the door, but not before muttering, "Rude girl, doesn't even know how to say thank you...!"

Mayonaka stares at the slammed door (_i'll show you rude you old cunt_), chalks it up to the woman being crotchety and old, and goes two doors down. She knocks on the door, and stands outside watching her breath mist for about half a minute before the door opens. Sunny hair and coffee eyes greet her, and she notices he's still wearing that same black and white bartender's outfit. A cigarette is sticking jauntily out of his mouth.

"Hi." She says, shivering a little from the cold, and he opens the door wider to invite her in.

"You're early." He's right. They had agreed on nine o'clock, but Mayonaka had been nearby buying her two bombs and decided twenty minutes wouldn't really make a difference.

However, she does not move to go inside. "Do you want me to come back?" She needs him, needs his cooperation, or she's screwed. So if it _does_ make a difference that she is twenty minutes early, she will gladly leave so that her chance to find out who that man doesn't.

He shakes his head and gestures inside. "It doesn't make a difference," he says, and she can't help but smile a little at the similarity between his words and her thoughts.

Once inside, she takes off her pumps and her jacket. It smells good inside his apartment; like smoke and something manly that she cannot think of a name for. The lingering smell of stale smoke might bother others, but a fellow smoker like herself can only feel comforted by it. That is why she assumes he gives her a strange look when she breathes in deeply and slowly releases it.

She's not fucked up (_yet_) like before, so she takes this time to look around. There's no television in the living room, only a coffee table with a radio on top, and two couches. The rest of the apartment that she can see is furnished in the same sparse way, but she does not judge. After all, her apartment is certainly nothing to be proud of, and she has even less furniture than he does.

"You want a drink, or something?" He stands there and rubs the back of his head.

Blondie looks nothing like the harsh man she chased after last night, the one whose legs she had so pathetically clutched onto like a lifeline. Instead, he seems rather awkward, and it fits the way he partially acted when she first met him. Mayonaka thinks that by around the time he asks her if she wants a drink, most men will have told her to get in the bedroom or take off her clothes.

Again, a tiny smile comes across her face. She does not know this Blondie well at all, but brushing aside the fact that he took her up on their little trade of skin for info (_info for skin_)_, _she thinks that he is most likely a decent man. She thinks, maybe she could be able to get used to her customers being at least a little polite like he is. Maybe she could get used to this _Blondie_.

But she realizes that won't happen. She realizes that once everything is said and done, once he's gotten his fill and she hers, he'll toss her out and they will never cross paths again. Mayonaka doubts that, in her profession, she will ever meet someone like him again. Because to her, it seems very unlikely she'll meet anyone that apologizes as profusely as he does when they fuck the shit out of her.

He's giving her a weird look, and she remembers that she still has not responded to him; she has simply been staring at him with a smile. "Water."

Blondie goes into the kitchen, and once she hears him open a cabinet, she takes the cellophane out of her bra. She rips it open and shakes the small pills out onto her hand, and she can practically feel the woozy, soothing effects they will have on her already. She's about to keep them under her tongue (_even though they taste like shit_) until he brings the water to her, and then a large hand grabs her wrist en route to her mouth.

"What are you doing?"

Startled, she drops the tablets and they fall soundlessly to the carpet as she glances up at him with wide eyes. His brown eyes look at the pills, then back to her other hand, and she clenches it shut. When she does so, she hears a thin crinkly noise, and she remembers that she still has the cellophane in her fist.

"Taking my medicine." She lies, and she isn't quite sure how she expects him to believe it when she knows she wouldn't. People take medicine out of prescription bottles, not the plastic that comes wrapped around a pack of cigarettes.

"Medicine." He says dryly, then lets go of her wrist and bends down to pick them up, and she almost curses to herself at her stupidity. Of course. If he examines them, he'll notice the- "Since when does medicine have the shape of a naked woman on them?"

She doesn't say anything, and grabs the glass of water from his hand. "Can I have those back?" With her other hand, she reaches it out expectantly, palm up.

He looks at the pills again, then back to her. "Why are you taking this shit?"

"Why does it matter?" She shakes her hand a bit as if to say _hurry up, c'mon._

"These things will burn holes in your brain. That's why it matters."

She doesn't know why he (_gives a shit?_) just won't give them back to her. She does not understand why Blondie gives two shits if holes get burned into her brain, because it's not like they are friends. Right now, they are simply business partners. They are people who need something from one another.

"Can I have those back?" She echoes her earlier statement.

A scowl crosses his handsome face. "What did I tell you about repeat-" He stops, looks at the pills, then grumbles, "How much did you spend on these?"

"... Enough."

She leaves it at that, and shakes her hand yet again and looks pointedly at the hand with her bombs in them. Then, before her eyes, he rolls them up between his fingers and crushes them (_no no no!_) to dust.

* * *

Shizuo turns over his hand and lets the dust fall onto the floor, and it is not without disgust. (_maybe she's disgusted_) He knew she was a thief, but was she a junkie (_maybe she needs to be fucked up to even think of letting you touch her_) too? Maybe she already _was _fucked up. It would explain the two random smiles she had given him for no apparent reason. Her green eyes are staring into his blankly, and he sighs.

He doesn't know if she'll screech at him, throw something at him, smack him for messing up her getting high - and Shizuo doesn't feel like dealing with any of those three things, no, so he brings his wallet out, going through it, and holds out money for her to take.

Risa shifts her eyes to his hand, then back to his face. He knows it's probably stupid. That she'll probably go and buy some more when she's gone, and then he'll have wasted money because of her. Money that, this time, she didn't even have to steal to get.

"Take it." She only hesitates for a second before she snatches it up and places it into her jacket pocket, then lays it down on his couch.

They're both silent, and he shifts his feet as she takes a sip of the water. Yes, they've made the deal, but Shizuo has no idea how to go about it. He does not know whether to say something about it or not. It's a lot harder to stumble into sex when you're not drunk, he thinks. She moves to the coffee table and sets down her glass, then fiddles with the radio. He takes the chance to freely observe her without her looking, and notes that even though she looks better than she did last night, she's still got one hell of a black eye, no matter how much make-up or whatever women use she has on. He continues to watch her even as the radio comes to life.

_"... chief of police, Yamamoto Sousuke, was found murdered this afternoon ..." _So it does not escape his notice that she freezes up, back stiffening once the words float out.

_"... eyes gouged out ..." _A shaky hand gravitates towards the dial, and he looks at her face, but he can't see it because her head is bowed.

Shizuo feels like he's missing something. Like he's missing a piece of the puzzle, a pixel in the bigger picture. He doesn't know why else she would tense so suddenly just from turning on the radio. But maybe she feels just as awkward as he does, he thinks, so he puts it behind him.

_"... head of the investigation behind the recent murders-"_ She turns the radio to a different station, one that is actually playing music. Risa straightens back up, and her face is unreadable.

"Come here," she beckons, and it almost sounds like a whisper. He obliges her, swallowing and making his way to where she stands by the coffee table. Once he reaches her, she lifts her arms up to his neck and unclips the bowtie, and he looks somewhere above her head because he _still_ feels awkward, even if he has already been _intimate _with her.

She drops it on the table and starts unbuttoning his white dress shirt. Shizuo finally looks down at her to see those dark green eyes are staring right at him, and up close, he can see they've got little gold flecks inside them. She stops unbuttoning his shirt halfway and captures his hand in her smaller one. Risa gives it a little tug and starts walking to his bedroom, and he follows like an obedient puppy behind her.

Their legs are touching the foot of his bed. She gives him a gentle push, and he sits back on the bed. Risa straddles him, hands returning to his buttons. His eyes catch sight of her rosary dangling around her neck, and it makes him want to pray (_god please please don't let me fuck up_) for things out of his reach.

"Are you ready?" She breathes into his ear, and it gives him tiny chills that skitter up and down his back. "Shizuo?"

But he knows it is a useless plea, one that will surely fall onto deaf ears; so he nods, gets lost in those gold-flecked eyes, and hopes she doesn't mind.

* * *

Once all is said and done and they've regained their breath, Shizuo doesn't want to even bring up that fucking flea. But she has kept up her side of the deal, and so must he.

"... Orihara Izaya." He starts, and it feels like he has acid coating his lips as soon as that godforsaken name comes out. "That's his name. He lives in Shinjuku."

"Orihara Izaya..." She mumbles. "Where in Shinjuku?" She questions, and he stares at the ceiling and tries to remain calm.

"I'll write it down for you." He grinds out from between his clenched teeth. And he really wants a cigarette, too, but right now his body has no intention of moving off of the bed, no matter how riled up he's getting from this conversation. He glances at the clock on the wall - he is not able to have digital alarm clocks, because he just breaks them when they start incessantly beeping - and sees it's already almost eleven o'clock.

Astonishingly, they've been at it, on and off, for almost three hours (_making up for lost time lost because you're a monster a monster_), and he glances at her. She looks tired, he thinks. Her eyes are half-lidded as they meet his, and she absently strokes the cross on her rosary and studies him right back.

"Thank you." He nods in reply, though he's a bit surprised she's actually demonstrated she has manners. "And... sorry." She does not say what for, but he's sure he has a good idea.

"Just don't do it again." He says, and after he does, he realizes the _again _makes it sound like they will meet again. Like they'll be doing this sooner or later, _again_. He feels a pinprick of disappoint needle him for a split second when he tells himself they won't. A few minutes go by as they lay there in bed, and then she shifts around.

She sits up, and the sheets bunch at her waist and reveal her upper body. Risa doesn't appear to care or feel ashamed. "Can you write it down now? I'm leaving." She goes to swing a leg out of the bed.

"Why don't you just stay here tonight?" Shizuo says before thinking, and he has no idea whatsoever where _that _has come from. It had just come out without him thinking, just like the routine, furious actions his body often takes when he flies into a rage.

"Stay? ... Why?" She asks quietly, and he doesn't really know himself.

"It's getting late." He fumbles for excuses and hopes that she does not notice; that he is not as easy to read as he thinks he might be. "It's dark, and it would be dangerous for you to be walking around the city right now." He sneaks a look at her from the corner of her eye, and it seems she is mulling it over, because she too takes a look at the clock.

A minutes passes before she speaks. "Then, write it down for me tomorrow morning." And with that, she settles back down into the bed, pulls up the sheets and rests her head back onto his pillows.

Even though they've just had sex - the most intimate act between two people - he still feels strange, lying naked in bed, with this naked girl. This naked girl that has actually agreed to stay the night with _him_, in _his _bed. This naked girl that must've wanted whatever information she needed bad enough to fuck _him _again. He thinks she might be a little crazy.

His eyes stray down to her bare arm that's stretched out over the covers. He can already see a bruise starting to form where there was not one before, and gets another pinprick. This time, it is guilt. She seems awfully fragile, naked under his covers; the silhouette of her body is small and faint from under the sheets, and the toes that are peeking out from beneath don't nearly reach where his does.

"Risa." He breaks off his observations and stares back at the slowly ticking clock. The radio's softly drifting in through the open door as she hums softly to signal that she heard him. "Did I... When we..." He swallows. "Did I hurt you?"

"Yeah." She confirms his fears, and it still gnaws at him to hear that, but maybe a little less since he knew that was what her answer would be. "But I think-" She stops in mid-sentence, and he looks back at her curiously. He gets the impression she does not want to say much. He barely knows her, doesn't even know her full name; but from what he does know, he feels that she does not seem to be very open.

"I think that... you might be the gentlest of them all." Her mouth snaps shut; she says nothing more, just turns over on her side to face the wall.

He doesn't know what to say to _that_. If anything, it's the biggest oxymoron he's ever heard. It's quiet again, except for in his mind; in his mind he's repeating her words, _gentlest, _(_she's lying liar liar_) _gentlest of them all_. And then he notices the _them all_attached to the end of her statement.

"Who is 'them all'?" He questions. She turns and looks at him, and there's a ghost of a smile on her face. It looks bitter around the edges.

"What do you think I do for a living?" She asks as if he should already know the answer. Risa turns back face the wall again, and he doesn't know what she's trying to get at.

But then he takes into account the way she dresses, the way she can be so detached. What he assumes is her unsavory habit of doing drugs, how she bargained for that flea's information with her body.

"I'll give you a hint." Once he gets to her shamelessness, he knows what she is without her next words, even if it is only by way of stereotypical traits. "I work during the nighttime."

"You're a..." It figures, he thinks. It really does. "... prostitute." (_that explains why she touched you monster_) She hums again as an affirmative.

"Escort."

"Risa..." He wants to say something, but of what to say, he has no idea. Maybe he wants to say there's better things to do out there. That she doesn't have to sell her body to strange men, like he's sure she does. But he barely knows Risa, so maybe, for her, there are no better things for her to go do out there. No, he barely knows her, so he just trails off and says nothing.

* * *

Mayonaka doesn't know why she's saying all this. Why she even continued speaking after she told him, _yeah, you did hurt me. _Perhaps it is because for the first time in these three months of her second life, someone has not been indifferent like everyone else. Even if it has just been a small instance, just him telling her that doing drugs is bad (_but you're not a good girl anyway_), it has struck a small, hard to hear chord in the heart she has tried to shove down.

Because as stony and cold and _not there_ she tries to be, she is still, nontheless, a girl. A girl that, in her job, under normal circumstances, would be out the door by now. Except Shizuo, he says it's dark and it's dangerous, and a girl shouldn't be walking that late at night. Mayonaka is a human girl, even if she wishes _she_ could be the indifferent one. It's been silent up until now; now there are deep, even breaths that accompany sleep, and she turns back over to look at him.

His face looks relaxed. The blonde hair that reminds her of the warm sunshine lays tousled with sweat upon his forehead, and those coffee eyes of his are closed. His eyebrows are not furrowed in suspicion, or anger, or disgust (_or pleasure_) like they have been almost every time she has seen him. He rolls over, and then they are facing each other. A hand is curled up by his head, and she watches the long, slim fingers twitch lightly.

Yes, she thinks, Shizuo is probably the gentlest of them all. She does not move to roll back over and face that blank wall. Instead, Mayonaka takes one last look at him before she closes her eyes, and a last, hazy thought occurs to her before she drifts off.

And in that thought, she questions herself on when he stopped being _Blondie,_ and became _Shizuo._

* * *

It is two hours later; the night is still dark out, and the radio is still crooning softly from the other room. The man is asleep, he has not even moved since he rolled over in his sleep. But the girl next to him is a different story. Moss green eyes flutter open, and they stare at the face that is the first thing she sees when she does so. For the most part, they are blank, but there is a hint of something that lies beneath, something that is far from empty.

Her lips curl up in a dreamy smile, and she reaches out her small fingers to touch the tips of them to his. She is still smiling. The man stays asleep even as she opens her mouth.

"Shi-zu-o..." The words come out slow and uncertain, so she says them again. "Shi-zu-o..."

The whole time her eyes have opened, they have not blinked; they have simply stared straight at - _into _the man lying next to her. She whispers again. "Shizuo..." And the smile grows wider when it comes out fluidly.

"Shizuo." She sighs out the man's name, and it sounds like something sacred when it comes from her mouth.

"_Shizuo..._"

She continues to utter his name in a hushed whisper, and the man beside her is none the wiser, fast asleep.

* * *

**A/N**: Hmmm, I wonder what will happen. :) Hope I kept everyone in character (let me know!), and Izaya will more than likely be in the next chapter. (Um... I might have a ... SLIGHT Shizuo bias...) Thanks for reading, everyone! And just to reiterate, 40th reviewer gets a giftfic about whatever they want, as long as it remains in the Durarara category.

Thanks!


	6. down down down & the flames went higher

**A/N**: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! Sorry, I'm too tired to individually list everyone, I can barely keep my eyes open...

It's somewhat short, and I feel like I might have botched writing Izaya... :X Either way, I hope you guys enjoy!

I don't own Duradura.

* * *

_i fell into a burning ring of fire_

_i went down, down, down and the flames went higher_

**chapter five**

Shizuo is _almost _surprised when he wakes up the morning after and sees Risa still lying there next to him, yet he isn't because he knows there is only one reason that she is still there. He runs a hand over his face and glances at her, and his eyes linger over the black eye on her face, the one that the make-up has failed to conceal since it has faded during the night.

He still wonders how she got it, but maybe it is better that he doesn't know. Because now that he's aware of her occupation, he doesn't want to be aware of all the assholes she probably encounters on her work days. No, he does not want to know about it. Shizuo does not want to think of all the people that pay her to sleep with them, all the people that probably (_use her just like you did_) treat her like a piece of shit.

The sheets are bunched up and wrinkled at her waist, and even though it is nothing he has not seen before, he still swallows, blushes faintly like a schoolboy, and pulls them back up to her shoulders. Usually when he first wakes up, he cleans himself up and makes a trip to the convenience store on the corner, but he hesitates this time. Shizuo doesn't feel like having anything else stolen from him, but she seems to still be deep in sleep, and she needs the damn flea's address anyway.

He still wants to know why she needs it; why she needs to see Izaya so bad that she slept with him, but the thought of him only makes annoyance stir within his gut. So he crushes the thought, although it is a bit reluctantly that he does so, and stretches and gets out of bed. Once he's dressed and ready for the day, he peeks in the bedroom again at her. She's still fast asleep, so he figures it's still okay to make a quick visit to the store.

Once he gets there, he finds himself staring at the refrigerated shelves of bottled milk. After a few minutes of standing there in thought and odd glances from the fearful clerk that he does not see, he grabs an extra bottle and heads to the register.

* * *

The light that pours in from the slatted blinds only worsens the migraine that's pounding inside of her head, and she throws a skinny arm over her eyes to try and lessen the damage. She almost forgets that she isn't in her apartment when she wakes up, but she hears a door slam from the other room. And Mayonaka lives alone (_is always alone_), so it comes back to her that she spent the night at Shizuo's.

She's surprised that he felt comfortable enough to leave her alone in his apartment while he went wherever he had gone, but it fades away when she remembers she needs information. After all, if someone needs (_orihara izaya_) something from you, they won't fuck you over. Then again, Mayonaka thinks with the rare sense of dry humor that she never has, nothing has been said about just plain old fucking.

Mayonaka slips out of bed and lethargically pulls her clothes on. The headache is still pulsing and buzzing inside her brain, and she rubs at her forehead in a poor effort to relieve it as she leaves his bedroom. Shizuo's back is turned to her, and he's in the middle of chugging down a bottle of milk. He hears her when she moves to grab her cigarettes and turns to look at her.

"_'_Morning."

She nods in reply and lights up a cigarette, and he tosses the now empty bottle in the trash. She watches him as he grabs another bottle out of a plastic bag and expects him to guzzle that one down too, but he holds it out to her instead.

"I don't know if you like milk, but..." He trails off, and her eyes are still glued to the bottle of milk even as she takes it from his hand. She can't help but think he is a strange one - but maybe she's the one who's strange.

Mayonaka twists off the cap and takes a sip. Then, a small and quiet, "... thank you." She realizes she has said more _thank you's_ and _sorry's_ to this one person, even if it's only been a few times, than she has in the entire three months that she can remember, and she finds it sort of funny and sad.

"Yeah." They are both just standing there, and she runs a hand through her hair and hopes the way it falls will cover up the black eye that she knows Shizuo is subtly staring at.

"Could I have his address, now?" She brings up bluntly.

As thoughtful and different as he may be, it does not matter. Eventually, he will just be another face in the sea of many that she will encounter; one that will fade with the ebb and flow of the tide. She has important matters to deal with at this time.

He looks away from her, and she sees his fist clench momentarily before he goes to grab a piece of paper and a pen. The pen snaps in half the first time he tries to write it down, and she gives him a slight, curious look as he grumbles and grabs another one.

They're silent as he scribbles down something, and then he hands her the piece of paper. She takes a look at it; the address is unfamiliar to her, and she has no idea where it is, but she'll find it. She has to.

She grabs her jacket and folds up the piece of paper, putting it in her pocket as she heads to the door. He follows her as she puts on her pumps, and she opens the door to leave. Before she can step out, though, there is a hand on the door, above her head. She glances over her shoulder with a raised brow.

"What is it?"

"Just..." Shizuo removes his hand, and it goes behind his head to rub his neck. "I don't know what you need from that guy, but don't trust him. And be careful. He's dangerous."

As awkward as his body posture is, the narrowed coffee eyes she looks into are nothing but serious. She wraps her jacket around her tighter. "Is that it?"

His hand falls and then rests on the doorknob. "... That's it." She gives him a short, brisk nod and walks out the door. He's about to close it, but then he hears her speak.

"Shizuo?"

He opens the door back up a little wider, and he can see that she isn't even turned around to face him. "Yeah?"

Her head turns the slightest bit, and he sees her lips start to move, but no sounds come out. She closes her mouth then opens it again, "Nothing."

And then she's gone, the _click, click, click_ of her pumps growing fainter and fainter as she walks away.

* * *

There is a knock at the door, but Izaya merely yawns and waves at Namie. "Go see who that is, will you?"

He doesn't pay any attention to long haired woman as she strides across the room to look through the peephole, just keeps on rapidly typing on the keyboard. He's talking about the most recent murder on the Dollars chat, the one they found with their eyes gouged out.

There's been quite a few recently; though the causes are all different, it's suspected they are all done by the same person. So far, the murders have all been men - a few young ones, mostly older. He thinks that they should have at least come up with a serial killer _name_. A label for the mystery person who keeps taking people's lives, a label for the one who is shaking up most of Ikebukuro. A label for the person that is _not _Orihara Izaya, and still manages to do that.

Yamamoto Sousuke, the chief of police - also the one man in charge of the investigation of the recent murders. Chief of police; such a high position, he supposes, but not so high anymore now that he's been strangled to death.

He's done his own brand of research, of course. Yamamoto, despite his esteemed position, had a penchant for things that weren't quite on the right side of the law. He liked going out and drinking with his work buddies (_some of which were his sources_); sometimes keep a couple drug dealers safe in return for their goods, and he often went to pick up girls to have a fun time with.

And time of death, he has learned from hacking into files and his sources, was right around when he had encountered that _wonderfully _abnormal girl. A momentary grin flashes across his face, because Izaya feels that is not coincidence. But Izaya is smart. He is not so stupidly hopeful and excited at the thought it wasn't, because he knows, just as well, that could be exactly what it was.

"You weren't supposed to have any appointments today, were you?" Namie questions from the door.

"I don't know, Namie. Isn't that your job? To know these things?" He smirks and spins around a bit, then returns to the keyboard as she shoots him a glare.

"It's a girl." She looks through the peephole again, then back at Izaya.

"Oh? What's she look like?" Another knock sounds.

"Short black hair... she's got a black eye. And she looks like she's dressed like a prostitute," She tells him dryly.

Oh, could this be any _better_? Izaya grins, and it nearly takes over the whole lower half of his face. From _short black hair_ and _black eye_, he knows who it is already; though, he's quite amused that Namie threw in _dressed like a prostitute_.

"Ah, let her in! And go somewhere, will you?" He straightens up in his chair and logs off the Dollars chat. Izaya is sure that this will prove to be more interesting, anyway.

Namie's hand is on the doorknob, and she's still glaring. "Like where? I'm on the clock, you know."

"Go get me some ootoro, then! From Russia Sushi." He knows she doesn't feel like going all the way over to Ikebukuro and back for ootoro of all things, but it's exactly why he tells her to - other than the simple fact he loves eating it.

She rolls her eyes and opens the door, and the girl is standing there with her hand raised to knock again. Namie grabs her coat from the coat rack and brushes past the girl without a word.

"I didn't think we'd meet again so soon!" Izaya exclaims, hands folded on the desk in front of him. "Come in, come in!"

And she does without any hesitation, goes right up to his desk and actually tries to look _down _at _him. _"I'm going to ask you a couple of questions," she says, and he likes how she doesn't say _can I_ or _do you mind, _like any normal person would start off a statement like that.

Namie wasn't really kidding about the way she was dressed. She is wearing a blue dress underneath a tiny jacket, and the dress is short enough to almost be considered indecent to walk around in public in it. However, it's still an improvement from wearing nothing but a bloody white dress shirt too many sizes too big for her. She still has on the clear rosary.

"Are you now?" He tilts his head and smirks at her, and she continues to gaze down at him dispassionately. "I don't even know your name. I'm sure you didn't know mine until recently, either." She says nothing. "Tell me, how did you manage to find me without a name to go with my face?"

"I'm here to ask you questions." The girl's dark green eyes narrow the tiniest bit at him. "Not the other way around."

"Ah, it seems I've got a fresh one here!" He leans back in his chair, "What if I told you I wouldn't answer your questions unless you answer mine? It's only fair, isn't it?"

The _what ifs _are moot, because of course he'll answer. He will answer whatever she asks; perhaps she just is not aware he will most definitely require some sort of reimbursement for these sort of things. The smirks curls up even more.

"Someone told me." She says simply, but that isn't going to cut it for Izaya.

"So you mean to tell me that you described my physical appearance down to each and every detail, then asked people until you found me?" He knows she didn't, but that doesn't mean he won't play around with her. "It seems like quite the task."

"Someone who knew you told me." She bites out, and the wheels begin to whir inside of his head. Many people know him; which one out of the many could it have been? And then he remembers the one person in all of humanity that he utterly despises and cannot place his thumb on like everyone else. The one person who had been the _third _person for an instant on the overpass.

"Hmm... could it have been Shizu-chan?" Her face remains still, but he's so adept at reading people that he immediately notices a spark of recognition in her eyes. It is only there for a split second, but it is present long enough for him to know he is right.

"I don't know who you're talking about." Another thing he likes is how she does not skip a beat when replying, as if it will make her statement seem more believable. To normal people, it might. To Izaya, he sees right through it like he's staring through freshly cleaned glass.

"Sure, sure! So tell me, how did you get Shizu-chan, of all people, to tell you who I am?" He crosses his arms behind his head. "Maybe if you told him you wanted me to die a horrible death by your own hand, I might believe it." Her face remains emotionless. "But then I wouldn't, because I know he'd rather have the satisfaction of doing it himself!"

"I told you, I don't know who you're talking about." She replies evenly.

He just chuckles. "Yes, of course! Now... why don't you tell me who you are?"

* * *

Mayonaka doesn't really know how she's ended up answering more of his questions, and he has yet to answer any of hers.

"Risa."

"Is it really? Could it just be an alias, I wonder?"

She knows he's sharp; just by her saying she found him through someone that knew him, he has already guessed who it was in one shot - that is, assuming _Shizu-chan _is Heiwajima Shizuo. So she thinks she should've known he might be able to see through her lie.

"It's Risa."

"You want me to be honest with you, right? Shouldn't you do the same? I think it's the least respect you can give to me, especially if I have something you want." He states slyly, and it rubs her some sort of way that he doesn't buy into her lies or fake names like everyone else. But she needs answers; it is why she is putting herself in this irritating and uncomfortable situation.

"... Mayonaka." She says slowly, and she hopes she won't regret telling him her real name. The name she found on her ID that day three months ago, one out of two things that she has brought unknowingly with her into her new life.

"No last name? How mysterious!" He asks jokingly, and she actually finds that she has to restrain a deep, frustrated sigh.

"Just know that I've given you my real name. That should be enough."

"Well, I suppose it is, for now." Her heeled foot clicks impatiently once, twice. "But you still haven't answered my question."

"You haven't answered any of mine," She fires back.

"An eye for an eye!" He replies back just as smoothly, and at his choice of words (_eye for an eye does he know? how does he know_) she wonders if he has a clue how close to home that really hits. "Now, who are you?"

"I told you. Mayonaka."

"No, no! You're not getting me at all! Who _are you_?" He leans forward and drapes his arms on the desk, resting his head on them and staring up at her. "What are you all about? What makes you tick?"

"Right now, _you're_ ticking me off."

"Ha ha! Very clever!" There's a condescending grin on his face and a glint in his eye, and she wants to wipe it off. "Well, we can save that for another time too, I suppose."

"That night," She says, because she does not want to let him go on. "What was I doing? What did I say? What did you say-"

"Someone's eager!" He exclaims, and she grits her teeth. Those are the same words that (_old fuck_) Yamamoto said to her. Some of the last words before she (_did she? didn't she?_) thinks she might have snuffed him out.

He continues, nonplussed by the impatient tapping of her heel that has started up again. "You were walking, of course. You seemed to be very pleased with yourself..." He spins around once, then stands up from his chair.

"I merely asked you why you were so happy!" Izaya steps around his desk and approaches her. "If I recall correctly, you said something to effect of, _'_He got his. Tenfold..._'_"

Though Mayonaka is trying hard not to let anything slip through any cracks in her mask, she can't help the widening of her eyes. (___tenfold tenfold don't worry he'll get his and he did_) She knows that he must've seen it, because now he's grinning that wolfish smile, advancing on her. She backs up, but for each step she takes to distance herself from him, he takes one more horrible step towards her.

"Does that..." Her back bumps into the wall underneath the loft, and then he puts a hand up right next to her head. "... ring a bell for you?"

His face is so close to hers that she can see now that his eyes are really just brown. But then he tilts his head towards her, and the light from the window gives them the red gleam she remembers from the first time she saw him. Mayonaka is no stranger to close proximities and being put off by them, but something about this man, something she cannot name - it sticks her with barbs of anxiousness.

She puts her hands on his chest to make him back off, but he easily grabs them within the other hand that isn't trying to block her in. "I think that it does... Mayo-chan." He giggles, and she tries to rip her hands out of his.

"Let me go." She swallows thickly, "That's... that's all I wanted to know." She thinks she might have had more questions for him, but they have taken a vacation from her brain because of how nervous she can feel herself getting. She still does not know what it is about _Orihara Izaya_ that makes her legs shake dangerously on her high heels.

"But what about my payment?" Izaya pouts, and she freezes her struggling hands.

"Payment?" She echoes. "What payment?"

He giggles again, but it is stronger and more belittling. "You think information comes for free? You're so silly, Mayo-chan! ...You know, I like you." She hates his smirk even more up close.

"The feeling isn't mutual," Mayonaka tries to hiss out. She refuses to look even a bit as frightened as she thinks she might be.

Mayonaka does not know who the hell this _Izaya _thinks he is, but he sets her on edge. She realizes that this one man has managed to make her display more emotions than anyone else (_you're wrong there is one other person shizuo shizuo_) she met these last couple months. And even though the emotions have yet to be extreme, she does not like it, not at all.

"Not for now, at least!" He releases her hands and she snaps them back to her side, and she can feel her fists clenching traitorously against how stony she is trying to make herself be. "Now. Payment!" He crows gleefully, and her mind recollects what Shizuo told her before she left. _He's dangerous. Don't trust him. Be careful._

As Izaya's grin grows wide enough to reveal straight, white teeth, Mayonaka thinks that maybe she should have listened to him.

* * *

**A/N**: Well, I hope you guys liked this short little installment. Hopefully I didn't fail with Izaya too much to turn you off from reading...

Too tired to add much else, but please **review**! I go nuts for 'em. Also, **40th **reviewer gets a gift-fic from me... only 5 more til that happens, so, uhh... get crackin'! ...Please. :)


	7. furnace room lullaby

**A/N**: A biiiig thank you to Lystrious, Imp, Pippa, LeMuffin, Mako, Just Anon, DreamWalker, and Ms. Tomato! Your reviews are encouraging and wonderful as always. :) (**LeMuffin**, I'm working on your gift-fic now!)

The "payment" probably isn't what you all think it is, but it's something I _think _would be so Izaya... that creeper! I feel like this probably isn't my best chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyways~

I don't own Durarara.

* * *

_i'm wrapped in the depth of these deeds that have made me_

_furnace room lullaby; how come, how come?_

**chapter six**

"I want to study you," Izaya says.

From the instant he said payment, she has only thought of two things he could possibly want; money and her body. Sex and currency seems to be universally accepted everywhere, but he does not want either.

Mayonaka stares at him blankly. "Study me. Why?" It is an honest question that she raises, because she truthfully cannot see why he'd ever want to. She is no one special; she doesn't remember being special, at least. And if she is special, she thinks it would not be in a good way.

"Because you interest me, Mayo-chan!" He raises a slim, dark eyebrow. "Unless you were thinking of paying me with... something else." Even if she knew what to say to that, she does not have a chance because he waves a hand in the air and goes on, "But I don't want that, so you can relax." The smile is still there.

"Why do I interest you?"

"That's why I want to study you! So I can find that out." His eyes narrow in something she thinks might be a dangerous (_big bad wolf) _manner. "I _love_ humans, after all!"

Mayonaka ponders the distance between her and the door, and wonders if she could make it out of the building if she runs fast enough. She has heels on, though, and she has a feeling that Izaya would not let her (_thrill of the chase_) go so easily.

"That's all? You just want to... study me."

He nods in response to her disbelieving question. "That's all, Mayo-chan! Unless you ever decide you need even more information from me. By then, the cost might have changed." He smirks at her for what she feels is the hundredth time since she has entered the room. She's about to ask him how exactly he planned on _studying_ her, but he seems to have read her mind.

"I'd like to keep an eye on you... you probably won't know I'm even there!" He licks his smiling lips. "But I will be."

His statement gives her chills up and down her back, and she hopes he does not see the way her shoulders momentarily tremble as she stares back without any of the fear her body is displaying.

"There's no way out of this. Is there?" It's more of a resigned statement than a question, and he just shakes his head slowly. (_will there be an escape_)

Mayonaka can only mutter out a "Do what you want," before she strides to the door, perhaps more hastily than she needs to, and shuts it behind her.

Once she is gone, Izaya jovially steps to the window that looks out onto the street. A chuckle leaks through his lips, and he waits. His grin grows wider and he shuts one eye, placing a fingertip on the glass where he can see Mayonaka's face look up at the window, both seeing and unseeing.

"I can't wait, Mayo-chan..." She looks away and walks off, disappearing into the crowd.

* * *

By the time she gets back to her apartment, she feels exhausted. She almost wants to open the door back up and look around, just to see if he really is there, watching her. Instead, she just shuts the shades on the windows, locks the door and drags herself to her bed.

She lays down, not even bothering to get under the sheets. Her fingers gently trace the side of her face, the side where she has the black eye, and winces a little bit when it comes into contact with the darkened area. Mayonaka just wants to sleep. She wants to sleep, and she wants to forget that the visit to Orihara Izaya did nothing except confirm her fears.

(_you killed him loved every second of it)_

The rosary on her chest feels heavier, and she clutches it fully in her hand to relieve the weight she thinks she's only imagining. She kicks off her high heels and throws the other arm over her eyes. She wants to forget. She takes her cell out of her pocket and sets an alarm for two hours later. She has to work tonight, after all.

(_loved his scream loved his gasping breath_)

Mayonaka closes her eyes and evens out her breath. Forget, forget; she wonders if it is possible to forget something she cannot even remember.

(_especially the very last one_)

She manages to drift off, even though the silence in her empty apartment seems deafening. And two hours later, when she wakes up, she thinks that she dreamed. Mayonaka doesn't remember much from it, but she remembers one thing that was in between her falling asleep then waking.

_"God will not forsake those who pray, Mayonaka."_

That is the only thing she can recall. Just the words - she can't think of the voice or tone that it might have been said in.

Praying is one thing she has not done once since she awoke three months ago, despite the rosary that she wears. Mayonaka would not even bother with the rosary, if it wasn't the one thing on her person when she was thrown into the world anew. She is still for a few minutes, listening to the rain that has started up sometime during her sleep.

Slowly, Mayonaka gets up and rubs her eyes, then forces herself to go to the bathroom to get ready for work later. She does everything she normally does. Showers, gets dressed, brushes her teeth. She combs her hair, applies her makeup with a steady hand that comes only from practice. Only her mind is thinking about Yamamoto again, and her hand goes shaky as she brings the dark liner to her eyes. It drops from her hand into the sink, and she looks down and grabs it.

When she looks back up into the mirror, the pencil drops again. Because in the mirror, there is a grey, bloated face staring at her from over her shoulder. Where the eyes should be, there aren't any, but the stiff smile it is wearing insinuates that if it did have them, they would be leering. She can only stare with wide, wide eyes as its face inches closer and closer then leans on her shoulder, that horrible face (_oh god i'm dreaming i must be dreaming_) smiling at her right next to her own.

Then, she comes to whatever senses she has left and lets out a scream, ripping open the bathroom door so hard that it bounces back off the wall and closes halfway again. She spins around blindly to grab the doorknob to shut the door fully, to trap whatever _it _is inside, but a matching grey hand creeps around the edges of the door as she tries to swing it closed. There's sluggish, pained moans when the fingers catch in the jam, and she can hear them clearly despite the frantic state she can feel herself entering.

_"Risa-chan. Risa-chan. Risa-chan, I thought you liked me..."_

She shuts her eyes closed and continues her efforts to close _it _off, and she can feel the dull resistance the door is meeting when it slams repeatedly against the soft, clay-like appendage. Then it speaks again:

_"I thought you liked me. I thought you liked me. How cruel, Risa-chan..."_

Her eyes snap open against her own volition as she stares down with frenzied eyes as the hand twitches and recedes, its movement only stopping when she tries to slam the door again and again and again. Finally it is back inside, and she closes her eyes again tightly. She holds the door closed for a bit even after, just to make sure whatever the fuck is inside her small bathroom will not attempt to get out. (_get you it's gonna get you_)

Finally, when everything seems still and quiet, she turns to face the open space of her apartment and opens her eyes. But the moment she does is the moment everything ceases to be such. It is the moment that nothing and everything seems real.

The walls of her apartment are no longer a smoke stained, eggshell white; no, they are walls made of flesh, ripped open to reveal angry red tissue underneath. The walls pulse like they are alive, and she cannot tear her eyes from the thick veins that line the wall, tendons and muscle quivering around them. She screams again, or at least she tries to. No harsh shriek comes out, just a gasping, high pitched exhale of breath.

_"Risa-chan..." _comes from her left side, and her eyes frantically dart to the source.

_It _is there again, but it's in her tiny, sad excuse for a kitchen that doesn't look anything like a kitchen anymore. Where the sink was, there is now just deeply indented gore, and it is reaching a hand into it. Its hand sinks into it further and further, making sick, squelching noises that makes her want to vomit_._

_"Where are they?" _The ashen face slowly turns toward her, and its head tilts and tilts to the point that it would be physically impossible for a human. _"I can't see, Risa-chan. Where are they?"_

Mayonaka makes a run for it, but the stiletto like heels of her shoes are sinking into something - she looks down and has to fight throwing up again when she sees the floor is made up of the same pulsating flesh as everything else. Pus is oozing up around her heels from the punctures where she stepped forward, and she lets out a shriek, an audible one this time, and staggers to the door with her hand over mouth.

The world outside is not much better, if it could be called that at all. The rain that she heard when she woke up isn't rain (_oh god it's red red red_), it's blood. Falling from the skies, falling into her eyes as she stares up at the sky in horror. The sky is a maelstrom of different shades of red, and she wants to go back inside and hide. Hide until everything is normal and okay, normal like it was before she fell asleep.

But that _thing _(_yamamoto_) is still in there, fruitlessly searching for the eyes she had tossed into the garbage disposal and tore up. So she runs, and when she falls down and skins her knees, she tears off her heels and keeps going. She doesn't know where she's going, but she cannot stay here.

But even as she runs amidst the passerby that are safely under their umbrellas, they turn at the sound of her fast, heaving breaths as she sprints by. And they are not people at all, or maybe they are; their faces are so distorted with gaping mouths and dark, sunken eyes that she cannot compare them to humans at all. She wishes now, more than ever, that she had someone that could help her in this red, bloody world. (_someone anyone_)

So she strains her now aching legs to the only person she has made the tiniest connection with, towards their place. She doesn't know how she can tell where it is amongst gory skyscrapers and bloody, shop-lined streets, but it almost feels like her feet are guiding her moreso than any other part of her body.

When she gets there, she runs up the stairs, tripping on a few of them. She pushes herself up as quickly as she can and practically scrambles to Shizuo's door. She bangs on it repeatedly, despite the fact that to her, they have thick veins and something like scabs twining across them like dark vines. The knocks are getting louder and louder -

A door opens, but it is not his.

"Stop making so much racket! I just got home from work, you know!" Her mind distantly knows that it's the annoying woman from next door, but it doesn't truly register since all she hears is garbled, screechy noises.

She sinks down to the floor of Shizuo's door and faces it, clutching at her knees and putting her head between them.

"Young people these days... and didn't I tell you to tell that Heiwajima to stop throwing temper tantrums in there, too? Because he hasn't!"

She does not answer. She does not want to listen, or see how fucked up everything is. Wetness escapes out of her eyes, and she can't be bothered to stop her oncoming tears.

Mayonaka squeezes her knees (_please come home come back shizuo_) against her ears and waits.

* * *

"You alright, Shizuo?"

"Huh?" Tom is looking at him with a bit of concern in his eyes, and he repeats the question. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, Tom-san."

Shizuo supposes he is alright enough, but his mind keeps straying back to the thought of Risa. He wonders if she found what she was looking for. And the thought of Izaya alone _pisses him off_, but thinking of him and Risa - did he hurt her in some sort of way? What if he tried to slice her up a bit with that annoying little blade of his?

And what if she got what she wanted the same way she did with himself? His grip tightens on the handle of his black umbrella, and a seething, almost jealous anger starts to bubble inside of him. He takes a long, deep drag of his cigarette to halt it.

Like he's told himself many times before, he doesn't even know her that well. He doesn't even know her last name. Then, a thought suddenly occurs to him. Now that he knows she's a prostitute (_"escort," she says so very apathetically_)_, _he wonders if she has even given him a real name. _Whatever_, he somewhat forcibly thinks. It's not like he'll ever see her again. She got what she wanted, what she begged and pleaded for.

But there is something so solemn and desolate about her, something lonely (_like yourself_) that makes him want to see her again. But then Shizuo realizes he's still thinking about her. It's a pointless effort, and he takes another drag as Tom speaks again.

"Alright." Tom conceeds, but Shizuo can still see his eyes slide to him in the corner of his eyes. "Well, I've only got one more today. I think I can handle it on my own."

"Eh? I don't mind coming with you, Tom-san."

"It's fine, Shizuo," Tom pats him on the shoulder, "You think I don't have fight in me?"

"... Okay." He doesn't really want to insult Tom, because he's sure he can take care of himself, but Shizuo knows that there's a much better chance of that with him there.

"I'll walk with you, if you don't mind. Your place is on the way, as it is." Shizuo nods.

The pair make their way in comfortable silence until they reach his apartment. When they're close, he turns to Tom to tell him to be careful and that he'll see him tomorrow, but Tom is squinting at something in the short distance.

"Is that... is that a person in front of your door, Shizuo?"

"What?" He blinks, confused, and looks to where Tom is staring. "A person?"

And as his companion had stated, there truly was someone at the foot of his door. The closer he got he could see that they were curled so tightly into a ball that he could barely see the top of her head.

"Shizuo?" Tom turns to him, but Shizuo just looks ahead at the figure.

"Go on, Tom-san. I'll be alright." Tom reluctantly gives him another look before nodding, and glances up at Shizuo's door again before walking off.

He slowly walks up his stairs, cautious brown eyes zeroing in on the hunched figure. The wind is forcing the rain onto them, but they're as still as a statue. Then he gets closer, and he gets a pretty good hunch of who it is.

Bare feet (_again_), bare legs with skinned knees; he can see bits of black hair lying on top of her arms despite the way it seems she is trying to hide. Those skimpy clothes of hers are drenched, clinging to her frame, and he finally approaches her and holds the umbrella over top of her head.

"Risa?" No answer. "Risa?" Her heard tilts towards the direction of his voice ever so slightly.

"... Shizuo?" Her head is still tucked in between her legs, and she doesn't bother to move it. "It's you?"

"Yeah, it's me." He says, and kneels down when she still doesn't move. "What's wro-"

"I want to look at you," Risa mumbles to him, and her voice cracks with her next words. "B-but I can't..." Something about her voice is different from any other time he has heard her speak; it sounds vulnerable. Scared, maybe.

"Why?" He studies her, and puts a hand on her back. At the contact, her stillness is broken and her shoulders heave erratically. Finally, he can't take it anymore and moves his hand to remove her arm from her face. "Look at me, Risa."

Her eyes finally open, and he watches as they ever so slowly sweep over to him. They travels up from his crouching legs to his face, and then she seems to dissolve into him as she goes slack. "You're normal," she whispers into his arm. "You're not... you're how you should be..." She's still shaking, and he wonders what the hell she's talking about, and what happened to her to make her this way.

"Did he... do something to you?" Shizuo asks her, and clutches the umbrella tighter in trepidation of the answer.

He doesn't get one, though. Her eyes dart around them, and she squeezes them shut again. "Everything is wrong. It's wrong, but you're right. You're right." She mutters, and he narrows his eyes at her with both confusion and concern.

"Risa-" He starts, then pulls her trembling body up. Almost immediately, she turns her face into his chest, and her shaking hands are placed tightly onto his waist like she's clinging onto him for dear life. "... Let's go inside." With the hand not holding the umbrella, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys and unlocks his door.

Shizuo pulls her inside, which is almost difficult because of the way she won't remove her head from his chest. "Hey..." He tosses the umbrella off to the side and takes hold of her arms, forcing her away from him to look at her face.

Her eyes are still shut, and he shakes her a little. "Risa. Look at me," he says again, and her eyes open halfway. She scans the room quickly, then slower the second time she looks around. Her shoulders sag and she lets out a deep breath.

Her green eyes look up at him, and he notices that they're bloodshot. "Are you on something?" He asks with a bit of suspicion. It would explain why she was acting so strange, practically babbling out nonsense - and he's already found her with those pills before, so he wouldn't be entirely surprised.

"No." She whispers. "I'm not. I..." She trails off. Risa stares at him, and whatever she was about to say goes unfinished. A minute passes where they just look at each other, and he feels like there's something going on inside of her brain he wouldn't comprehend.

"Then why are you like this, Risa-" She cuts him off and whispers something under her breath, so quiet that he cannot hear. "What?"

"Mayonaka." She says a little louder, but he still has to strain his ears to hear her. "My name is... Mayonaka."

So he had been right about the fake name. And even though he still thinks he might be the tiniest bit insulted, he's surprised that she's just up and told him without any prompt.

"... Mayonaka," Shizuo tests out, and it sort of rolls off of his tongue. "What happened?" And simply because he's curious, he adds, "And what made you tell me? Your name."

"I don't know," She mutters, "I don't know why everything was..." Mayonaka pauses. "I told you because-" She stares at him, unblinking. Her mouth is open a bit, and it seems like she is searching for the correct words. "-because you are exactly how you are supposed to be." Her gaze remains unwavering on his features. "It's strange..."

Even though he got his answer, he still has no idea what she's talking about. Her stance wavers a bit, and he steadies her. "You should go lie down." She gives a weak nod, and he puts a hand on her shoulder to guide her to the bedroom.

Once they're inside his room, he takes note again of her drenched clothing and shivering frame. He grabs a white shirt from his closet and hands it to her. "Your clothes are wet. And you're freezing. Get changed."

Mayonaka takes the shirt and begins to lift her dress up over her head in the unashamed manner he is accustomed to seeing from her, and he turns around in respect. After a minute or two passes, he turns to see her swimming inside his dress shirt, looking at him.

Shizuo pulls down the covers and gestures for her to get in. She crawls onto the bed, and he looks away again despite the view he could be getting if he was not trying to be such a gentleman. Mayonaka curls into a fetal position and he slides the covers over her pale, thin shoulders.

"Will you stay?" She asks softly, and her green eyes peer up at him from beneath wet, choppy bangs. "Please don't leave."

He looks at her all balled up underneath his sheets, and she looks just as small as last time she was in his bed. "... I won't."

As soon as the words leave his lips, her eyes flutter closed at the reassurance. "Shizuo." Mayonaka reaches out a hand blindly, and he looks at it with furrowed eyebrows.

"How long were you out there for?" He asks offhandedly, and he still does not take his eyes off of the hand reaching up.

"I don't know. I just waited." Her fingers twitch and stretch out more towards his direction. "Come here... please."

Shizuo almost hesitantly sits down on the bed next to her, and her hand drops and lands on his thigh when she feels the weight shift on the bed. Small, skinny fingers tighten their grasp on the fabric of his pants, and when he tries to take her hand off of them, they latch onto his hand instead.

"Please don't leave, Shizuo." She says again.

He wonders again what happened, but he is sure he won't get a proper answer even if he tries to ask her again. And maybe it's the way this _Mayonaka_ is different from _Risa_, even if they are just small differences; maybe it's the way she says his name in a hushed tone, or the way she's gripping so tightly onto his hand.

"I won't, Mayonaka."

No, Shizuo does not know what it is; but still, he sits on the bed next to her, even as her fingers loosen their hold in her sleep and the relentless rain taps against his window.

* * *

**A/N**: Sooo... I hope you guys liked it D:! I hope it doesn't seem too sudden for her to reveal her real name, but if I were her I'd probably think the fact he was the only one unchanged and ungross would probably mean something, haha.

And I don't know if it's possible for an OC to seem OOC, but if Mayonaka does seem that way, I'd like it to be known that she's simply experienced some crazy shit. Well... I mean, hopefully you all thought it was crazy. You'll at least give me 'weird', I hope~

Anyways, I hope this wasn't a waste of your time and that you liked reading it as much as I liked writing it~

Please **review review review**! Any criticisms and comments are welcome, and I'm always dying to know what people think about the way the story is (slooowly...) progressing.

Thanks for reading. And **reviewing**. ... :D Yeah, I know, stop with the bolding and the hints...

But really. Do it and reassure me everything is okay!


	8. an anchor just to cling to

**A/N**: This chapter is a little shorter than usual, but I hope you guys enjoy anyway... :) Thanks and hugs and kisses and rainbows and kittens to whoever reviewed, I love ya'll~

I don't own Durarara.

* * *

_you will hanker for an anchor_

_just to cling to_

**chapter seven**

When Mayonaka wakes up in Shizuo's bed, she almost thinks that everything has just been a terrible, cruel dream; she has yet to meet Izaya, she didn't see Yamamoto's corpse lingering about in her apartment, she didn't see the whole world look like something out of a morbid nightmare.

But when she rubs her eyes, she sees the cuff of Shizuo's shirt that he gave her, hanging off of her wrist. The shirt he gave her when he finally came home, when she was waiting outside of his doorstep like a stray waiting for the scraps she occasionally got from the person within.

She looks to the side; he's sleeping. He's still sitting up in the same position. In a delayed realization, she notices that her hand is still lying in his sleep-relaxed palm, and she gingerly takes it out and holds it to her chest. She has to leave. Mayonaka looks at the clock. It's only been a half hour or so, but she still has work to do.

Mayonaka doesn't really want to leave this safe haven she has discovered, but she has to. She just wants to stay safe in this warm bed, next to Shizuo. It's almost a hard pressed decision she makes to actually leave, because she is still astonished and grateful he let her in that easily. Didn't badger her, really - just laid her down in bed and stayed wither her like she asked him to.

For a moment, she contemplates writing him a note. But then she realizes what she just thought, and banishes it from her mind. Why should she write him a note? (_because he was the only one who was right_) She stares dully at the ceiling before swinging her legs off the side of the bed and grabs her damp clothes. Even though they're uncomfortable and wet, she still unbuttons his shirt and puts on her dress.

The dress shirt is almost left crumpled on his floor, but she picks it up and folds it neatly, then puts it right next to him. And she's opening the door to his bedroom so she can leave - even though she has no shoes - when his voice poses a question to her.

"Where are you going?" His voice sounds sleepy, and she can hear him slowly stand up from the bed.

"I have to work," Mayonaka replies quietly. She does not face him, and he doesn't say anything; she guesses that since he knows what she does for a living now, he doesn't really know what to say anyway. "And... I need to check on my apartment."

She doesn't tell him that it's been unlocked since she scrambled out in terror. She doesn't live in the best part of town, either. Maybe she didn't have many possessions, but she would prefer that nobody be waiting for her (_like yamamoto_), and that the few things she did own were still there.

"You don't even have any shoes." His voice is closer now, right behind her.

"I know," she says, and turns around to look up at him. "But I have to go."

Coffee eyes are trying to read her. "What happened?" Then, for whatever reason, he adds, "... Mayonaka."

In a way, she almost wishes she could tell him. Mayonaka wishes she could tell anyone who would listen, but she knows she would immediately be labeled insane. She's starting to think it herself.

"Thank you, Shizuo." His brows are furrowed at her because of her abrupt topic change. "For letting me stay. You don't know..."

He gets his pack of cigarettes from the nightstand before lighting one and facing her again. "Don't know what?"

_You don't know how glad I was to see you_, her mind says for her. _You don't know how glad I was to see _(_coffee eyes sunny hair_) _you as you are supposed to be_.

What comes out is, "... how much I appreciated it."

The smoke from his cigarette is tingling her senses, and suddenly she wants one. Her pack is still at the apartment, though, just another thing she left behind in her frenzied retreat. He stares after her as she makes her way to the door, then moves to the bedroom door to lean on the frame.

"That's it?" He questions, "You're not going to tell me why you were outside my door like that-"

"I can't." She sort of regrets saying it when she takes a look at his face. Even across the room, she can tell that her vague answers annoy him.

"Can you at least tell me something?" He still does not move from the door frame.

"Depends on what you want to hear."

"Why did you come here? I'm sure you know other people."

"I don't." Mayonaka says bluntly. "And I don't really know." She's being honest; she has no idea what spurred her to show up at his apartment and wait outside in the rain for him. "But I can tell you one thing, I suppose." She places a hand on the doorknob.

"Yeah?"

"Even though I don't know why it was you," Her fingers turn the doorknob, and it wedges open a bit. "Just know that... You saved me." She takes one last look at him before she opens the door fully, and cold air rushes inwards, made worse by the damp clothes she's wearing. "You really did."

Bare feet and all, she starts out the door. "What do you mean?" His voice is quiet, and she can hear his footsteps as he finally walks over to the door.

"Exactly what I said." She doesn't expect him to understand, but even telling him that little bit makes her feel kind of better. _Sort of._ Mayonaka is able to get one foot out the door when he grabs her arm to stop her.

"Here." He lets go to grab his wallet out of his pants. "Take a cab." It would be a hell of a lot more comfortable then walking home, but she shakes her head.

"No." With one bare foot out on the cold cement of the outside, she leans back a little bit and on impulse, touches her fingers to his cheek.

Because Shizuo doesn't know. He doesn't realize how unnecessarily kind he's being to someone like her. She's just a prostitute, no matter how many times she uses the word _escort _in its stead. And now, she's been slapped right in the face with the new title of _murderer._

She almost wants to chuckle at the fact that Shizuo wants to buy the whore murderer a taxi ride, but she hasn't laughed in too long. She cannot remember being so happy or entertained by something that she has even giggled.

"I'll be fine."

"Mayonaka," Shizuo starts, his voice still soft and deep, "Will I..." His voice is hesitant. "See you again?"

And before she can answer, a man appears in front of the doorway. It's Suit, from the bar; he looks surprised at the sight of her, then looks to Shizuo with a raised brow. So without further ado, she tells him, "I have a feeling you will."

She walks past Suit without a passing glance, ignoring the cold shooting up legs. As she walks down the stairs, she hears Suit ask, "Who was that? Shizuo?" In her mind, she silently answers him.

_No one worth knowing, really._

* * *

"Who was that? Shizuo?" Tom glances back at Mayonaka's retreating figure as she walks down the stairs.

"That was..."

He is unsure of what to tell him, since he doesn't really know what she is to him. Friend? It doesn't feel right, really. Lover? Perhaps in the few physical circumstances they were in, but any other sense of the word doesn't fit.

"An acquaintance." He supposes that fits more than _friend _or _lover, _at least.

"Really?" Tom asks, a little bewildered.

But Shizuo doesn't take offense to it; Tom is one of his closest friends out of very, very few. He knows that Tom is not trying to belittle him in anyway. He's honestly just surprised. He's been friends with Shizuo for a while, so it just comes as a shock to him that he has just seen a scantily clad girl leaving his apartment.

"Well," Tom continues, then sheepishly rubs the back of his head, "I didn't mean to interrupt or anything. I just wanted to see if you were alright. I know you can take care of yourself, but I figured I'd check anyway-" He blinks. "Was that ... the person that was outside your door?"

"Yeah."

"There was a girl waiting outside your door?" A few silent seconds pass, and suddenly Tom claps the back of his friend's back. "I'm glad that you-"

"It's not like that, Tom-san."

Of course it isn't, and he has never expected it to be. Even though Mayonaka has given him something he'd never get from anyone else, and even though he, for some reason, is the only person she could go to earlier - none of that changes the fact he is _still _a monster with unbridled anger issues.

And she doesn't know about that, at least he doesn't think she does. Other than leaving ugly bruises on her body, she has yet to see him in the state of rage he is so easily taken by; the state of rage that is the most difficult thing to rid himself of. Other than that fucking flea, he thinks.

"Oh. Well..." His friend clears his throat a tad awkwardly. "I guess I'll go now. Since you're alright and all." He shuffles to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

"See you, Tom-san."

Tom lets himself out, and Shizuo meanders to the fridge to grab a bottle of milk. Except there isn't any. He grumbles, then goes back into his bedroom. He flops on the bed, thinking that he'll go out to get some in a bit. He stares at the ceiling, then breathes in and out deeply.

Mayonaka's scent is lingering on the sheets, still. Nothing fruity, or floral; it doesn't smell like perfume to him at all. He cannot think of anything to match it with. It smells like... like-

Five minutes later, he finally decides that Mayonaka smells like almonds (_because just like he can't describe her scent, he can't describe how almonds smell; he just knows_).

One minute later, Shizuo fists a hand in the sheets and reaches over to the nightstand for another cigarette.

He tells himself he needs to wash them as soon as possible.

* * *

After what seems like a walk that took too long and more odd stares, she finally trudges up to her apartment door. With a deep breath, she hopes that everything is how it should be (_like shizuo_) and turns the doorknob-

But it won't turn. It's locked.

Her hand moves away from the doorknob like she's been burned. Mayonaka knows she didn't lock it; hell, she was too scared shitless to even think about it at the time. So who-

"You know, Mayo-chan, people normally need keys to get inside their homes." She stiffens in surprise and turns around. Orihara Izaya is a few feet away from her, leaning on the railing.

"What are you doing here?" Without realizing it, she has pressed her back to the door.

And she knows there must be a wary look in her eye, because he approaches her with his hands up in a complacent manner, as if to say _easy now, easy_.

"Relax, relax~ I told you that I was going to study you, didn't I?" He reaches into his fur trimmed jacket pocket and pulls out something. Her key. He dangles it from the keyring on his index fingers, waving it in front of her face.

"Why do you have that?" She asks before trying to make a swipe at it. Right when her fingers brush against the cool metal, he raises it up too high for her to reach.

"That's awfully forgetful of you, isn't it? People can easily just..." Izaya's eyes look like they're laughing. "... waltz right in."

Mayonaka simply stares at him stonily; she doesn't have time for games, and she doesn't have time to wonder if the informant has been going through her apartment. "Give it back. I have to go to work."

"Oh?" He raises a brow, "Isn't it a little late to be working? What could you possibly do, Mayo-chan?" The way he says it makes her think he already knows what she works nights for, but she has no clue whether he does or not.

"Just give it back, Orihara."

Izaya starts twirling the key around on his finger, and he leers down at her. "How about this? You tell me what your job is, and I'll give you your key! It's that simple, really."

She figures a little deviation from the real truth won't hurt. Maybe it'll get her goddamn key back. "I'm a hostess. Now give it back."

He tsks at her before raising an index finger and thumb to his chin in thought. "It's funny, Mayo-chan. I get the feeling you don't quite have the personality for it! So why don't you tell me the truth? I want only accurate information for my studies, after all."

Mayonaka's feet are freezing, and she still has damp clothes on that magnify the frigid weather. No, she definitely doesn't have time for games. So if it's accurate information he wants, that's what he'll get. "I fuck men for a living."

"Haha! I was right, I _knew _you were a prostitute!" He giggles madly; it reminds her of the first time she met him under the streetlight. She doesn't know why it's so funny, either.

"Why bother asking me then? And give me my key. Now."

His snickers fade and he finally brings the key down to her level so she can snatch it. "I wanted to see what you would say. And I must say, Mayo-chan, that was quite the statement."

She gives him one last look. His dark brown eyes that look red, they're shining at her with a glint of something she can't put her finger on. And even though Mayonaka can still admit there is a handsome quality about him (_god only knows what that must be_), she doesn't want to be around him long enough to figure out what it is.

"It was only the truth, Orihara. The _accurate _truth."

Mayonaka inserts the key and turns, and her door opens just like it should. But she cannot help being frozen, staring into her apartment. It's still lit up inside since she never turned the lights off, but she still hesitates.

"What's this?" Suddenly, Izaya is leaning over her shoulder, face next to hers. She jerks away when she remembers it to be how the _thing_ approached her. "You look so scared! Is there a horrible, ugly monster inside?" The lilting, jovial voice does more than suggest he's mocking her.

Mayonaka turns and shoots him something between a glare and one of her normal blank looks. When she faces back to her apartment beyond the door, she mutters, "You don't know the half of it," more to herself than to Izaya.

"Move aside, Mayo-chan~ Let me check it out for you, hmm?" And just like that, his slim body has slid past the crevice in between her and the jam, and he walks in like he owns the place.

"Where could it be? Under the bed? Oh, in the closet!" He walks up to the hallway closet and opens it. Izaya makes a show of checking inside, peering in with contemplative noises and his backside sticking out. Mayonaka wants to kick it.

"Why did you have my key?" She curses herself for forgetting to get answer out of him as to why he had her key. Another curse goes out to him for derailing her off the train of thought in the first place.

"Nope, no monsters in here!" He confirms, then swings the closet door shut and smirks at her when he realizes she is still in the doorway. "Perhaps I was better off with it, since you won't even step in your own home?"

She swallows. "Shut your mouth, Orihara." Slowly, she takes a step in. Slow and steady-

And then Izaya lunges forward, eyes gleaming, and grabs her by the arm. He drags her inside and holds her to him in one fell swoop, and she closes her eyes in fear of what comes after the swift grab. The action had been so forceful that she thinks he might just going to throw her onto the ground or do something of the like, laughter following afterwards. Yes, Orihara Izaya seems like the type to do that.

She hears a sharp squeak; balefully, she realizes it was herself. And Mayonaka isn't sure whether she still cinches her eyes shut because she's scared of what she might see around her, or because the informant has her pressed up against him so tightly that she can feel his body heat warming her up through her damp clothes.

"Don't worry, Mayo-chan~ I can chase them away for you." She opens her eyes and looks up at his smirking face and tries to shove him off, but he still has his lithe arms wrapped around her like a vice.

"You can't do anything for me."

"I'm hurt! It seems like you'd rather be alone with a monster than me!" His smirk has dissolved into a pout, and she tries again to shove him away from her. "And for your information, _Mayo-chan, _I believe I did help you out when you came to my office earlier. Remember?" Of course she remembers. She can't forget how her heart felt when it dropped into the pit of her stomach at his words.

And even though Mayonaka won't admit it out loud, Izaya is right. "Let go of me." There is pause and a fruitless wiggle. "And tell me why you had my key."

He heaves a dramatic sigh and lets go of her as one would let a dancing partner loose, all grace and poise. "So cold~ And what does it matter? It's better that _I _found it then some terrible person."

She isn't so sure about that; but what she is sure of is that he'll just beat around the bush like he seems to immensely enjoy doing. "Either way, I have it now... so you can get out." She is still cold and damp, and she has to get ready for the night of work ahead of her.

But a small part of her does not want to be alone in this apartment again. She almost does not want to be in this apartment at all, ever again, but it's not like she has a choice.

Izaya says, "And if I don't want to?" He cocks his dark haired head at her in question, ever so innocently.

"... Fine. You can stay until I leave, then." She doesn't know where that has come from, but his statement bounces around in her head (_rather be alone with a monster than me_) and she thinks that no, she wouldn't.

He giggles again and steps close to her, picking up a lock of her equally dark hair and rubbing it between his fingers before she bats it away. "Maybe you _do _have a soft spot for me, Mayo-chan! How delightful..."

* * *

As soon as Shizuo steps outside, he runs a hand over his face and then lights a cigarette. He locks his door and sets off down the stairs. He feels that a walk around the city, some fresh air, it might do him good. And then there's the lack of milk in his fridge that he needs to take care of, anyway, but he'll go there on his way home.

Everything is fine until a half hour into his excursion. He's minding his own business, as usual, watching street entertainers doing their tricks, teens are running around like the city is their playground - but then he sees him.

Izaya.

He's chattering away on his cell like the annoying flea he is - and before Shizuo can get another thought in of how goddamn annoying he is, all thought processes are halted as his vision suddenly resembles a tunnel. He lets out a low, rumbling growl, and starts striding up to him, his pace quickening with each step.

On the way, he rips a large trash can from its bolts and hurls it the rest of the distance he has yet to cross. To his immense satisfaction, it hits him. Not bad enough to knock him out, but it _does_ knock him to the ground. "_Izaya...!" _The flea's name comes out in a guttural roar, and said man gets to his feet, although it is a bit slowly he does this.

"Ah, Shizu-chan! How lovely of you to say hello! In your usual caveman manner, that is." And like usual, he smirks, completely calm in the face of Shizuo's heaving fury.

"Why the hell are you in 'Bukuro? I told you to stay the fuck-"

Izaya cuts him off, but not before picking up his cell and saying a goodbye to whoever was on the other line - which pisses him off even _more_, because now he's acting like he's _not _in the imminent danger he's in. "It's actually a funny story, Shizu-chan~ I was visiting someone."

The cell flips shut, and Izaya stores it into his pocket. He gives his full attention back to him, now, and that irritating smirk grows.

"Someone I think you might be well acquainted with, actually..."

* * *

**A/N**: So not much happened this chapter, but I have some stuff planned for the next :) And goddamn it, I'm going to fit Celty in somewhere because... because... She's cool and I love her D:!

Sorry again for the shorter chapter and possible boredom inside. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it, so~~ Please review, okay? :) It's so weird, I notice that the amount fluctuates each chapter. Goes high, low, then goes higher... you get the point! I wonder if it's because some people may find my chapters boring and not worthy of reviewing :(!

So please review! I know you guys are out there... somewhere...


	9. your stinging velvet arms

**A/N: **Forced myself to get this out, so here you have it. I don't know if I'm happy with it or not, but hopefully you guys are... :)

Thank you to Taiga, Noc and NC, DreamWalker, Nixxy, Lystrious, Just Anon, Mako, Pippa, Sepsis, and ElleEctricity~ you guys bring me such joy and other happy stuff!

And um, I'm thinking of writing another gift fic for whoever gets the 80th review so... mmhmm.

I don't own Durarara.

* * *

_let go of the focus and blur out all the lines_

_safe from all the horrors in your stinging velvet arms_

**chapter eight**

His fingers are itching to grab something else to throw at the annoying, boyish face that's watching for his next reaction. It takes almost everything in Shizuo's power to cling on to any last vestige of calm, even if it's only small enough to let him get out his next words.

"What are you talking about?" He growls dangerously; the tone would be enough to frighten anyone else with half a brain into submission, but not Izaya. Never him; all the years they've known each other, hated each other, Izaya has never once broken down to intimidation.

"Well, perhaps that's speculation on my part; I don't know for _sure_ if you know her or not..." The informant grins. "Mayo-chan, that is."

For a second, Shizuo doesn't know who he's talking about. But the second is over quickly, and he makes the connection between _Mayo-chan_ and _Mayonaka _and _someone he's well acquainted with. _After all, he is not one to _acquaint_ himself with many others. The itch comes back in his hands full force, and they shake as he forces them to stay at his side.

Izaya continues as if he sees the realization whirring inside of his head. "She's so very interesting~ I couldn't have picked a better subject to study!"

"...Study?" Shizuo forces out from behind grit together teeth. "What the _hell _are you talking about?"

The thought of Izaya doing something to Mayonaka rubs him wrong in every which way. And like he feels he's thought a thousand times, he doesn't know her that well - but he's starting to think he eventually _could. _But now he regrets even agreeing to help her find him. He should've known it would not end well; nothing ever did with Orihara Izaya.

Izaya, he merely rolls his eyes, like it pains him to explain himself further to the seething blond in front of him. "Well, Mayo-chan needed something, you see. Something that only I could give her~ And of course I require payment for these sorts of things, you know."

"What, are you _stalking _her?" He spits out in disgust, but Izaya just laughs.

"_Studying, _Shizu-chan! She's well aware of her payment." The cell is taken out again from his pocket, and he scans the screen and types a message in before looking at Shizuo again. "And as interesting as she is, I'm performing some... experiments, if you will! Such as, what happens if you place Subject A - that's Mayo-chan, in case your brain can't work that fast - in a dangerous, potentially life threatening situation?"

His feet begin to move without his permission, to the sidewalk that's been deserted by the people who don't want to be caught in any type of misfire.

"Will Subject A continue to be just as interesting, even after what happens? Will she break? Will she act like everyone else at the end?" His laughter comes back, but it sounds wild with excitement this time. It makes Shizuo's stomach turn. "How will she act? I want to know~ Haha, maybe she will even try to barter for her life with that body of hers!"

Metal groans in protest as Shizuo rips a sign out of the ground, and the portion in his hands is flattened with the strength of his grip. "You _goddamn _flea-"

"Oh? Do you know something about that, Shizu-chan? Her body?" Izaya asks with faux innocence, and dances right out of the way as the sign goes flying right next to his head. "I thought as much," he smirks, "I wonder how Mayo-chan even let a monster like you touch-"

"Shut up!" Shizuo roars and charges at him. There is nothing but red anymore. From the informant talking about Mayonaka, to calling him a monster; just those two things are enough to set him off the edge of his beyond mounting anger.

"Ah, but if I fight you, I won't get to see the results of my experiment!" Izaya calls out over his shoulder as he already begins running. "Wish me luck, Shizu-chan~ Or maybe-" Those eyes the color of dried blood gleam and the shit-eating grin on his face is bigger than ever. "-you should wish that to her!"

Soon, the informant has rushed and disappeared into the nighttime crowd of the city, and Shizuo is left with nothing but his own rage and the feeling of worry gnawing at his gut.

And in the shadier portion of Ikebukuro, Mayonaka rubs at her arms and puffs on her dwindling cigarette, despite the fact she's finally dressed in dry clothes now. She's just gotten to the corner she usually waits at until she gets a customer; even though she doesn't like what she does, she still wishes someone would approach her so she could get out of the frigid cold.

Standing there alone on the corner, her mind wanders to Orihara Izaya. She may have been the tiniest, _tiniest_ bit grateful there was another person with her in the apartment that had looked like an accurate depiction of hell just earlier in the day - but even so, all he did when he was there was talk her ear off.

Even though it had gotten annoying, fast, she had to admit that he was (_there's something beneath that exterior_) almost intriguing. Mayonaka barely knew him for even a day - it had only been this morning she'd left Shizuo's apartment to seek him out. While she thinks she might be just fine leaving her duration of time knowing Orihara Izaya to a bare minimum, he makes her somwhat curious.

Despite her having to "pay up", which didn't seem like much of a pay at all, really, once he told her what he wanted - he had rejected her using her body before the thought even crossed her mind. And it had not failed to cross her mind that he might be able to help her figure out who she had been before, before she became (_murdering whore_) someone people would look down upon.

But like he said, the cost might change by then. Though she wants nothing more than to fill in the blanks that linger behind her, and even though he may interest her the slightest bit, there is still that _something_ about him that sets off ringing alarms. And then there were his parting words; cryptic, just like almost everything else that had come out of his mouth so far since she had met him.

_"Be careful tonight, Mayo-chan. You never know what could happen..." _She doesn't think she really needs to listen to him, but something about the way he said it - it makes her think she should. After that, Mayonaka had told him _politely_ to get the fuck out so she could go to work.

But she brushes it off anyway. She cannot imagine anything worse happening than what already has transpired. Just thinking about the last week, this horrible, nightmare-ish week, makes her mentally cringe. She decides to make a visit to Ryuuji later to make herself feel better. A temporary release, chemical or not, is something she would give almost anything for. Anything to make her feel better (_shizuo can_) would be welcome.

She's disrupted out of her thoughts when a dark van with tinted windows pulls up next to her, halting and slowing to a stop as a window rolls down. She flicks her cigarette off into the street and saunters up to the window. There's a nondescript, average looking young man inside, and he's smiling at her from the driver's seat. He looks friendly enough to her. Not that one should judge by appearances - she knew that, maybe better than anyone else.

"Hey, there," He says, and Mayonaka has gone through this enough to know it's time to get in the car. Prices can be negotiated to her whim, later.

So she opens the door, even though something is telling her not to. But it's work; it's money, and it's too damn cold outside to be picky. She settles into the seat, and almost immediately the car begins driving again before the door is even shut. Again, something about that sets the hairs on the back of her neck straight up - but she just looks out the window at the passing nightlife instead.

"So, what's your name?" The man has one hand on the wheel and the other propped up on the arm rest.

"Risa-"

There's a hand over her mouth and one gripping her by the shoulder. In the matter of an instant, she's hauled into the back of the van, and she is suddenly being held down to the rumbling bottom of the vehicle. There's two other men in the back with her, and she struggles in blind fervor (_oh god oh god please_) that she can get free. They just laugh and chuckle amongst themselves, and she grows still underneath what feels like their iron grip.

"Let me go," She tries to breathe out calmly. "I don't do groups." A brave front is the only thing she can turn to right now. But she thinks it's already starting to waver, and they know it.

Dark faces she can barely see in this shitty van look to each other, and for a single, solitary moment she thinks that maybe they'll reconsider. Maybe she won't end up murdered in some dumpster (_maybe i'll get mine too_) or left sprawled out in some dingy room in a love hotel. Like Yamamoto (_tenfold_) was.

"She's a prissy one, isn't she?" One remarks while they agree, and her eyes shoot to the direction of the voice.

"Maybe that's not what we want! Then again, you don't know _what_ we want..." The other's line brings forth more snickers, and she swallows the tiny lump that's starting to make an appearance in her throat.

"Can we just play with her a little bit? It won't matter if she's marked up a little, right?" Mayonaka does not move an inch; she isn't really listening right now, either. Her head is running through ways she can possibly get away, but she's jolted out of it when she feels cool metal pressed against her cheek.

"He wasn't too specific... ah, go ahead. He just asked for her in one piece..."

She does, however, catch the _He_ in his statement, and now she's going through who _He_ could possibly be.

"Should we put her to sleep first?"

"She doesn't look strong," One of them notes, "She's not even putting up a struggle!"

"I bet it's because she's used to laying on her back, right? Risa-chan, was it?"

Green eyes swerve back to her captors, and their features are a little more distinguishable this time around, now that her eyes are adjusting. They look young, at least in their mid-twenties.

The passing streetlights that manage to shine dully through the tinted windows grow blurry as she concentrates on them solely - she has to figure out a way out of this. S_he has to. _

It isn't that she is scared to die. To an extent she is, just like anyone else - but perhaps it is for different reasons than most. At this very second, in a perfect example of routines that go wrong, she was thinking of how she didn't want to die without finding out who she was. Who she had been before she became who she was now, flat on her back inside of a van, in a mother's worst nightmare.

Unbidden, the image of sunny hair and coffee eyes comes to mind - almost against her will, she thinks it would've been nice to get to know him, maybe. But none of that will matter if she dies.

Everything is slowly becoming muted to her as her mind races - dimly, she can hear the driver making a phone call, but it sounds like it's behind a thick pane of glass.

(_want to see him must see him_)

Mayonaka grows still as everything around her becomes quiet and dark; she has to, she has to, _she has to-_

* * *

After Celty gets the message from Izaya that takes her off of standby, after she gets to an almost abandoned parking garage, after she approaches the dark van - after all of that, what she sees when she opens the back of the vehicle is nothing like what she has seen before on one of the jobs Izaya gives her. The others working under Izaya are there in the van, but they're not moving.

The driver is slumped over the steering wheel as blood drips down steadily onto his lap and below, and the others in the back are all the same. They all have varying cuts on them from what she can see, and all of them have had their throats neatly - as neatly as it could be, minus the blood - sliced open.

But those are the only bodies inside; three, immobile bodies that won't ever move again. The girl that Izaya has told her to retrieve and bring back to him is not present among the corpses. She takes out her PDA after giving the garage a quick scan and sends him a text.

[Izaya, there's a problem.] Within the next minute, there's a response.

[Oh? What kind of problem would that be, Courier?]

[The girl isn't there. And...]

[And?]

[And the others are dead.]

It takes a few minutes this time for a reply, but it still comes: [Dead? Was it a crash?]

[No, they were definitely... killed.] Izaya's next response is more timely.

[And the girl isn't there at all?]

[I don't see her. She probably ran away.]

[How interesting!]

[What should I do?]

[Nothing. I'll get your payment to you soon.]

In Shinjuku, Izaya sends that one last text to the dullahan before he lets himself bask in the glow of the recent events.

The results have certainly exceeded his expectations. "Mayo-chan, Mayo-chan...~" He leans back in his chair with feet on the table, and brings up the picture he had taken of her on the overpass. His eyes scrutinize every detail of the almost fuzzy picture, the dull look in her eyes and the vacant smile on her bruised face.

He isn't worried about her. Obviously, she's still alive; Izaya knows where she lives - and he had made a copy of her key, anyway.

"I love them..." Izaya says to himself, finally flipping the phone shut. "How can I not, when they continue to interest me so?"

* * *

It's cold outside, and she doesn't feel like taking out the trash in the freezing weather, but Kana does it anyway. It isn't like she has a husband to do these things, she thinks bitterly. She hauls the trash bag over her shoulder and sets down the stairs. Even though she _hates_ having to take the trash out - it smells, it leaks, and she plain doesn't want to - there is at least one thing to be grateful about.

That disruptive Heiwajima from next door is still out. She hopes that he _stays_ out so she can get a night's worth of peaceful sleep. Though a night or two ago, it hadn't exactly been anger she had heard through the paper-thin walls. Instead of hearing curses, and things crashing and breaking like she usually did since she moved in, she heard noises that were distinctly _not _anger. Noises that_ she'd _be able to make if she actually did have a husband. She doesn't really know what's worse between hearing Heiwajima have conniption fits or sex, but she knows what has spurred on the latter.

It must be the girl that's been coming around. Judging by the look of her clothes that Kana would _never_ let the daughter she doesn't have wear, she couldn't be a saint, even if she did wear that rosary. She's a strange one, she thinks. Just earlier that day when she had gotten home from work, the girl had been crouched in front of Heiwajima's door; sopping wet and barefoot, no less.

Even when she had tried to give her a piece of her mind, the girl hadn't replied. She had just sat there, facing his door, head tucked in between her knees. Yes, she thinks, definitely strange.

Her nose scrunches up in distaste as she walks back up to her door. She's in the middle of opening it when she hears _click, click, click_ coming up the stairs, and she looks over. Just as she thought it might be, it's Heiwajima's friend. The person has a hood up, and she cannot see their face, but she sees the rosary swinging with each step.

Immediately, her mouth opens to complain about the noise again. "You two had better not disrupt my sleep again!"

The girl is in the middle of passing her by now, right in front of her. She is still not paying her any attention. "You can tell that freak Heiwajima to-" Her words are lost in her throat when the girl's head snaps to face her so quickly the hood falls down, and she shrinks back as wide green eyes seem to drill a hole into her skull.

But that isn't what makes her back up; no, what makes her flinch is the blood on her face. There's specks of it on her cheek, a smear across the bridge of her nose. Even bits of her hair are clumped together, and it doesn't take much imagination to guess what's making the strands stick like that. She backs into her apartment after getting a better look at her - even though the girl's clothes are dark, there are stains of something even darker spotting the fabric.

She is in the process of slamming the door shut and thinking, _I'll never say another word to them again. No, I'm moving tomorrow. I should've done it a long- _when a heeled foot steps into the jam and halts its swing.

"Why would you talk about Shizuo like that...?" The girl whispers in a slow drawl, and Kana's fingers slacken in surprise long enough for the girl to place her hand on the door and open it bit by bit. "Why would you do that?"

"I... I.." She stutters in reply, and the girl suddenly bangs the door open, even though Kana is trying to close it again. She trips over her own feet from the force of the door, and stares up at the girl as she walks into her hallway and closes the door behind her gently, so gently that it's hard to believe she swung open the door with enough strength to knock her down.

"Say you're sorry."

But Kana can't say anything. She can only scramble backwards and think, _This crazy fucking girl, _and that she should've just kept her mouth shut for once. The girl continues to advance upon her, and eventually Kana hits the back wall of her living room.

"You should really say you're sorry..." The girl kneels down to her level and crawls to her, not stopping until she is straddling the woman's legs. "... Say it."

"I..." Kana swallows, to try and get the apology out - but then the girl takes out a small knife and holds it loosely at her side.

"Say sorry for the things you've said."

Her voice is still slow and whispery, and another two seconds go by in which they stare at each other - and then there's a searing, blinding pain in her left hand. The girl claps a hand over Kana's mouth to muffle any screams, and her eyes dart down to the source of pain. The knife is stuck into it, almost sticking it against the carpet, and she whimpers and looks back at the girl pleadingly.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, okay!" She yells out hysterically when the girl takes her hand off her mouth. Then she rips the knife back out of her hand, ignoring Kana's pained hiss and smiles at her.

"I'm glad that you said sorry." But the smile slowly turns into a frown, and she looks at the knife for a moment before looking back at her. "But you might say something horrible again..."

"I won't! I promise!" Kana frantically tries to assure her, but the girl cocks her head and the smile returns.

"That's right. You won't. Not anymore..." Then she is shoved further down against the wall until only her head is leaning up against it, and the girl moves onto her chest and stares down at her dispassionately. She brings down the knife again on her other hand, but does not move to cover up her screams again.

Instead, while her mouth is wide open in the beginning of a huge scream, the girl's hand moves like lightning to her mouth. The scream doesn't even get halfway since the girl is pinching the tip of Kana's tongue with her index finger and thumb.

"Not anymore." The girl whispers, then brings the knife up from her wounded hand to her tongue. Kana can only stare in horror and disbelief as the sharp edge begins digging into the side of her tongue, and blood runs in rivulets on the girl's hands and down Kana's chin.

"You won't..."

* * *

Shizuo finally returns back to his complex, feeling tired and still anxious. He actually looked for Mayonaka - went to bars, went to the shady section of Ikebukuro. Went around all the corners that he thinks she must stand on while waiting for a customer, but there was nothing. He doesn't have her phone number, or the knowledge of where she lives, so there was naught else he could do but go home.

He hopes that Izaya was just fucking around with his head. He hopes that Mayonaka is really in some love hotel with some man instead, even though the thought of a strange man putting his hands on her irks him. He finds it strange, though, the way he's so concerned about some girl who he had only just met a couple days ago.

She shouldn't matter to him - but she does. Shizuo thinks that he is probably just grasping at straws, at the prospect of human contact that is almost impossible for him to find. Maybe he is using her just as she had used him for Izaya's address - it's something he cannot deny.

When he trudges up the stairs, already thinking of lighting up a cigarette as soon as he gets inside, he stops in his tracks for a moment. He had been searching for her as best as he could - and there she is.

She's slumped over in front of his door, both legs bent at the knees with her head resting on them. It's just like earlier, except she wasn't facing his door this time. Mayonaka doesn't look up at his footsteps, and when he starts moving again and gets closer to her, he can see goosebumps on her bare legs and frowns.

"Mayonaka?" There is no reply, and he kneels down and shakes her harder. "Mayonaka-" Then her head lolls to the side, finally visible; it's streaked with blood that he desperately hopes is not hers. Her head shoots up all of a sudden, and he guiltily realizes it's because his grip on her shoulder had tightened painfully in his budding anger at the sight of the blood.

"S-Shizuo?" She stares at him with wide green eyes.

"What happened? Are you alright?" He asks her, and searches her eyes for an answer. Though they seem to stand out more when the dark shade of drying blood is smeared near them, he just wants to clean it off.

"I... I think so." She mumbles, seeming to be dazed. "How-" But Mayonaka doesn't finish her sentence because Shizuo has wrapped her in his long arms, against his chest.

It feels so much nicer than when the informant had done the same thing to her earlier, she thinks hazily. She gets the feeling something is amiss - no, she _knows_ there is, because she's blacked out again. She almost wants to shrug off his arms, because she doesn't deserve them. But they're warm and comforting, so she lets herself be greedy.

"I'm glad to see you," Shizuo mutters into her ear.

Both are still outside in the cold. Confused and bloody, Mayonaka can only feel herself bring her arms up around him as well. A few seconds pass, and he can feel her small hands tighten around his torso.

Quietly, so quietly that he thinks he might be imagining it, she whispers into his ear.

"... I'm glad to see you, too."

* * *

**A/N**: I hope you guys enjoyed reading, even if I'm not too happy with it~ Also, because I'm curious, who does everyone want to see Mayonaka end up with? I'd like to know, so you should all tell me... in a review. :)

I'd also like to hear anything else that needs to be said! Let me know if everyone's IC, blah blah... you know.

Thanks for reading!


	10. fox confessor brings the flood

**A/N: **HOLY CRAP. 23 reviews? /seizure. Please keep it up, I'm so happy~ Too many people to address, but veeery big thank you to everyone! Although I hate to let you guys down by telling you I won't be doing a gift-fic until later... I'd like to try to update my other stories first. Please don't kill me. D:

To answer a couple questions: I didn't really have the men from the anime in mind as the kidnappers, seeing as they're probably too scared of Celty, but I figured that Izaya wouldn't have too much trouble finding other scumbags to do it~

And I could have the one side like Shizuo, and vice versa for Izaya, except they both kinda like Shizuo... don't let that misguide you into how the story will end up though! I'd like to keep you all in evil, evil suspense...

I feel like I might be forgetting other questions, I'm sorry! If I am, feel free to PM me~ And a big thanks to **Lystrious** as well for giving me her opinion on something in this chapter. Go check out her stories, now! They're totally good and deserve a lot more readers, so do it!

In case anyone is curious about the header lyrics for this chapter, it's taken from the song Fox Confessor Brings the Flood by Neko Case - which is based off a Ukrainian myth/fable of the fox and the wolf. Each telling is different, but the general meaning is:

The fox cons his way into being a trusted confessor, then uses that relationship to pretty much eff over the wolf... Sorry if that's confusing for anyone who actually notices that I've referred to Izaya as a wolf, but I thought it was pretty fitting. :D

I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

I don't own Durarara.

* * *

_i kneel to the wheel of the fox confessor and on my guilty feet follow him in retreat_

_will there be no one above me to put my faith in? fox confessor brings the flood_

**chapter nine**

After he's blinked away the surprise that he's been hit with at her words, he lets go and pulls her up to stand with him. "Come inside, alright?" She simply nods, her eyes looking faraway and deep in thought.

So he unlocks the door and walks in as she follows right behind him, quietly slipping her shoes and jacket off. His eyes catch sight of the blood on her again, and a pang of concern tugs at him.

"What happened?" Mayonaka does not answer. She just walks to his couch and sits down quietly, and she stares at her blood-splotched hands in silence.

He's relieved that she's in one piece. However, he cannot stand the way that she still doesn't give him answers; and frankly, he thinks he deserves some after coming home to see her in a state like that. The blood is still caked onto her face, and Shizuo lets out an almost silent sigh before venturing into his bathroom closet to grab a washrag.

Once he wets the washrag with warm water, he goes back to her and gives her a grunt. "You should clean yourself up."

Those evergreen eyes raise slowly up to him and stare. She makes no movement to take the washrag from him, so he runs a hand over his weary looking face before kneeling down at her feet. Her eyes still follow him numbly even as he raises the wet rag to her face and begins to clean off the dried blood as gently as he can.

"So are you gonna tell me what happened?"

With a frown, he realizes that some of the blood was hers; there's a few thin cuts on her face, and he clutches the rag so tightly water is bring wringed out. Her eye twitches a little when he rubs too hard, and he practically whips his hand away and mumbles out an apology.

"It's fine," she says, but still doesn't say what happened. Mayonaka takes his hand with the rag in hers and places it back to her face. She's giving him a slightly inquisitive look, as if she's wondering if he's still going to wipe off the bloody grime from her pale face.

And he does so, but not before asking her again, "What happened?"

"I don't know." And really, she doesn't know. All she knows is that she's woken up somewhere again without any memory of getting there, and she can feel her stomach lurch at the possibilities of what she could've done. Who she could've hurt, or worse. Not even _could've - _the blood on her is enough proof she's done something.

"Mayonaka..." Shizuo says, and it almost sounds admonishing to her ears. "You know you could tell me. Right?"

"I meant it. I don't know." Her eyes close, and she sighs before opening them and staring into his own. "The last thing I remember was..." She trails off, as if she's unsure she should continue or not. He moves on from her face to her hands, and scrubs at them too. "I was standing on the corner. Someone pulled up. A van... so I got in, but..."

Izaya's words resurface in his mind, because there's no way he could possibly forget them. Even though his heart races faster with annoyance and frustration, even though he wants to ask her outright if it the damn flea was behind it, he waits for her to finish.

"Can I trust you, Shizuo?" She visibly swallows, and his hand pauses in its ministrations.

"Yeah," He tells her seriously, "You can." He doesn't know if he even trusts himself completely - at least with some things - but he's sure he can handle whatever she'll tell him.

"I think that I did something bad... Really b-bad." Mayonaka's voice is whispery with trepidation, and she almost chokes on the last word.

"Bad?" He echoes. Sure, she has stolen from him, and her job wasn't exactly what every little girl should aim to be, but he couldn't picture her doing something that horrible. "What do you mean, bad?"

Mayonaka stares long and hard at the vibrant, sunny hair that she's starting to like; the color reminds her of something cheery, and the yellow of it makes her feel warm. And his eyes are still that creamy coffee color, and they're staring into hers with his total attention.

Suddenly, she can't do it. She had been so close to telling him what she had done, what she thinks she had just did - but she can't. Mayonaka does not want to ruin whatever sort of relationship, albeit a strange one, that they have somewhat constructed over the past week. After all, there is no way to tell someone you're a killer and still retain what once was.

Mayonaka stands to her feet, almost kneeing Shizuo in the face as she does so. He stands up just as fast as she does, if not more so.

"Where are you going?" He asks her, sounding a bit befuddled when she abruptly makes a beeline for the door.

"I'm sorry, Shizuo..."

She stops and looks at him over her shoulder after she's put on her shoes, forgoing her jacket. He thinks she sort of has on a guilty expression. Mayonaka faces forward once again, but his long strides beat her hand opening the door. Like he's already done on another time she's left, his hand is on the door. For a second she tugs futilely at the knob, then stops.

"Stop running away, damn it!" He grabs her by the shoulder and spins her around, and she winces from the force of his grip. But right now, he's heated - this girl does nothing but confuse him, really, and she's the one who keeps showing up on his doorstep. "If you're gonna keep coming here to hide out, or get information, or whatever you're doing, I think I should have some-"

And then one arm is around him, pulling him close; the other is already in the process of undoing his belt buckle. But what he wants right now is answers, not her trying to distract him with the promise of things he has only done with her. The fact that she's even trying to distract him using a weak spot just furthers his mounting anger.

"Is this what you want?" She asks him with pleading eyes, and now it enrages him even more that she thinks what he wants is her body again.

"Goddamn it, _stop_!" And in an action he will regret later, he shoves her away from him forcefully, so hard that she lets out a surprised, hurt cry when her shoulder hits the knob on her way to the floor. There's a dumbfounded expression on her face. But even worse is the terrible look of fear (_she sees it now you're a monster_) that's in her eyes, the one expression he has never seen directed from her to him.

One second, she's on the floor staring up at him like a deer caught in headlights, and the next, she has scrambled up and raced out of the door. Shizuo stands there, frozen with guilt at his actions, and listens as the clicking of her heels hurriedly escape and fade away completely.

He does not stop her this time.

* * *

As Mayonaka clutches her dully aching shoulder, she shivers from the gusts of cold wind blowing against her. She curses mentally when she realizes that she's left her coat in his apartment in her rush to get out, but the bloodstains would surely only attract unwanted attention. Another curse flashes by when she thinks that she's dumped a bloody jacket on Shizuo, now. But she can't go back.

He had scared her for a moment. There had been a look of total ferocity in his eyes, something wild and uncontrollable when he had pushed her down. She can admit it was probably her fault. Looking back on it, trying to distract him probably only made him more angry. And judging by his actions, she had made wrong assumptions in thinking he wanted physical retribution for her showing up unannounced.

But that's all she knows how to do. When he brought to light how she kept him uninformed despite her going there to use it as a safe haven - she doesn't know if that's what she uses it as, but he seems to be right - she had felt horrible.

Of course he would question her. Of course he'd eventually lose his temper with her lack of explanations, especially when she'd almost told him everything. Even though it hurt when he pushed her, she can't complain. She deserves it (_don't deserve shizuo_) for taking advantage of his kindness. But right now, she needs answers, again. She has to go for the gold, this time.

Some time later, she arrives in Shinjuku. She gets lost at first without the address, but she still makes it there to the informant's building. Mayonaka needs to do this. She needs to know.

Once she gets up there, she knocks on the door. About a minute later, Izaya's door swings wide open. It's not the woman she saw before, but the man himself.

"Mayo-chan! What a pleasant surprise!" There is such joy in his voice that she could almost believe him if she wanted to. "Come in!" He steps aside, and she rubs her chilly shoulders again once she enters.

"No jacket, this time?" Izaya grins, "You know, you really should keep better track of your clothing."

She ignores his taunt and gets straight to the point. "I need your help again."

"Oh? Whatever for?" He asks her, then veers off. "Do you want some tea, Mayo-chan? It will warm you up!"

Mayonaka just nods and sits on one of the large, black leather couches that sit in his living room. While she waits, she thinks of all the ways she should word her request. By the time he gets back, she's decided that the simplest way would be best.

"So, you need my help." It's a statement, not a question, and he seems smug with that fact. "What can I do for you, hmm?" Izaya places a steaming cup of tea into her freezing hands, and she relishes the warmth that radiates from it.

"I need you to help me find out who I was."

"Who you were? That's kind of broad, don't you think?" He sips at his own cup before continuing. "Perhaps you should elaborate."

Mayonaka thinks he's smarter than that, but breaks down her statement anyway. "About three months ago, I... I woke up. And I didn't remember anything." She blows at her tea before sipping it too. "If it wasn't for my ID, I wouldn't have even known my own name. I don't remember any family, any friends..."

"So, you want me to fill in the blanks for you? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes."

"Well," He sets down his cup on the coffee table. "I suppose I can help you with that. However..."

"What?" Mayonaka asks, and immediately bites her tongue when she realizes how anxious she sounds.

"Payment this time will be bigger." His smile gets larger (_big bad wolf he'll eat you up_), and he gets up from the opposite couch and paces around the coffee table with his hands behind his back. But the grin on his face reminds her of something devious, and she swallows.

"Before I agree to any sort of payment, how will I know what you'll tell me is even true?"

"Good question, good question~ You don't." He leers at her, and she thinks that maybe it was a mistake to come here. Maybe she's wasting her time.

Then again, maybe she isn't. But she isn't quite sure she will want to pay the price that he wants if it means she'll get lied to. After all, it wouldn't be hard to tell someone who doesn't remember anything lies. False names of friends, family. The list can go on and on, and she thinks that maybe she shouldn't have come.

Maybe she should have confided in Shizuo, even if it did mean him being disgusted with her and never wanting to see her again. "Nevermind," She mutters, and puts down the cup and makes for the door. He doesn't move, either, but she has her hand on the doorknob when he speaks.

"Morisaki Mayonaka. Your favorite color was yellow..." She freezes at his words. He chuckles, "You always said it cheered you up, that it reminded you of the sun."

Any doubts she has vanish when she hears him say that. "How did you know that?" It's a rather obscure thing to know about her, but she supposes it can be found out if you talk to the right people. People she knew. "And my last name?" She knew her last name, seeing as it was on the ID card right next to _Mayonaka, _but she had not given it to him.

"Maybe I just do my research," He says, nonchalantly. Her hand drops from the knob and she heads back to the living room and back on the couch.

"Name your price," she says.

Because even if it's all lies that he will feed her, that little bit of information (_yellow sunny shizuo?_) makes her think it won't be.

* * *

Shizuo sits still as a statue on the bench, except for the hand that adjusts his blue sunglasses after he puffs on his cigarette. After she had left, everything had been too quiet; the mute silence annoyed him, so he had taken another venture out into the city.

He feels like shit. He wishes he could apologize to her, but he still doesn't know how he'd get in touch with Mayonaka anyway. Shizuo highly doubts she'll make another surprise appearance to his doorstep, now. She seemed so close to telling him, too - maybe if he hadn't lost his temper, maybe if he had used gentle words and actions, she would have told him.

His eyes lazily scan the crowds passing by on the sidewalks. He won't admit it to himself, but he's looking for that jacket-less girl with short black hair and skimpy clothes. Shizuo does not see her, but he does see someone familiar pull up on the legendary, soundless motorbike of Ikebukuro.

It's Celty. She waves at him as he waves back, parks her motorbike somewhere safe nearby, and approaches him. She takes a seat next to him on the bench, and even as he turns to her, his eyes are still searching the crowd through the reflection that stares back at him from her inky black visor.

"Hey, Celty." He mutters, then takes another drag. "Looking for it, again?"

[Yes. No luck, but I've only been looking for a bit so far.]

He nods, and doesn't say anything else. Shizuo can't really think of anything to say right now, to be honest.

[Are you alright?] She cocks the head that is not there. [You seem down.]

"Yeah. I just..." He could lie to her and tell her everything's just fine, peachy keen - but he has a feeling she'll see right through it. He's been friends with her for years, and besides, Celty's always had a knack for that. "No. Not really."

[What's wrong?] She asks, then takes back the PDA and types up something else. [If you don't mind me asking, that is.]

"I..." He trails off, but Celty waits patiently for him to continue. Shizuo doesn't know where to start, so he decides to just start at the beginning. "I met this girl. About a week ago." He can practically see her perk up at the mention of the word _girl_. "She's... I don't know. Something else, I guess."

[Do you... do you like her, Shizuo?] Even though it's just words on a screen, he can sense the hesitance she has when she asks him that question.

"I don't know. Maybe. No girl ever... gave me a chance, like she did." He doesn't give further explanation into what kind of chance she has given him, nor does he tell her that she stole from him the first night she met him. "But she needed Izaya for something. I don't know what."

[So she knows him?]

"She didn't. Until I gave her his information." Celty doesn't say anything to that. He supposes she's probably shocked that he'd give out anything about Izaya without causing a catastrophe, or that he'd even do it at all.

"Then I saw him tonight. And he's just... he's just up to no good, I know it." The cigarette dwindles to nothing but the filter, and he squeezes it flat before flicking it in the distance. "Damn flea..."

[... I see.]

"Celty." He knows she accepts jobs from time to time from him, so he just has to ask. "You wouldn't... know anything about that. Would you?"

[No, I don't.] She shows him, but he sees how her fingers hesitated over the keys before she gave him an answer, and he clears his throat.

"I saw her tonight. She was at my door... she was a mess." He lights up another cigarette at the thought of the recent events. What Izaya could have possibly orchestrated. "I lost my temper, too..."

[I'm sorry, Shizuo.] He knows she means it. Of all people, Celty probably understand him the best. [And... I might know something about it.]

"What?" He asks, and he hates how eager he sounds.

[Izaya sent me to retrieve someone earlier.] She takes back the PDA, then it's back in his face. [But she wasn't there.]

"... Was there a van involved?"

[Yes. But I think you should be careful, Shizuo.]

"Careful?" He puffs on the cigarette to ease his rising anxiousness. "Why?"

It takes a minute for her to respond. [Because the people inside were dead.]

He stares at the text dumbly. "Dead?"

[They were killed. The girl was gone.]

"So what?" He says, and it comes out roughly, to his chagrin. He doesn't mean to bark at Celty, but he just can't believe it.

[She was gone, and so was whatever weapon that was used. The signs point to-] He doesn't finish reading the text, just stands up and grinds his cigarette underneath the sole of his shoe.

"Thanks, Celty. I have to go." She's begun to hastily type something else on her PDA, but he gives her a wave and starts walking off. "I'll see you around. Good luck with your search."

Dead? No, _killed _- he doesn't want to believe it. He can't believe it. But her words ring (_b-bad..._) in his ears, and he cannot deny the possible truth of them.

_"I think that I did something bad..."_

* * *

"... I thought you said you didn't want anything like that."

Izaya shrugs at the figure on his couch. "I changed my mind."

"Why?"

"Will it matter, Mayo-chan? If I told you why, would you deny me?" He knows she won't. She's too close to learning anything that will help her regain a sense of _up _and _down _and _her self_. An ever familiar sense of having the upper hand hits him, and he savors it as he smirks at her.

"No." She says slowly.

"Then there's no issue, is there!" Izaya points out to her, and she stares down at her cooling cup of tea.

"I suppose there isn't..."

"Then come here, Mayo-chan." He beckons her, and she sets down the cup a bit reluctantly before getting up and standing before him.

Perhaps he should be frightened. He knows what she's capable of now; knows what she has just done not too long ago. He knows that there's a possibility she'll snap on him, too. But he's Orihara Izaya; he does not _fear_ like humans do. Instead of fear, there is only the challenge of the green eyed girl in front of him. A challenge that consists of raising her up, only to break her down again.

"Well? I thought this was your job, Mayo-chan. You should know what to do." He mocks her, a hand on the side of his face as his arm rests against the top of his couch.

"They tell me what to do." She mumbles at him, and he laughs.

"Oh, I see! If it's direction you want, then get on your knees." He orders her.

If he _were_ human, _if_ - he might feel a tiny sense of jealousy. Because he knows that most likely, she hasn't had a chance to smoke a cigarette between murder and the daze she seems to dip into. And so there can only be one reason why he can smell the smoke that clings to her clothes and hair like a lover as she follows his demands.

He watches her hands undo the button on his pants and lets out another chuckle. Just like he sees a challenge instead of feeling fear, he sees the tempting opportunity to cover up the stench of the one human he despises instead of jealousy. Izaya will destroy whatever remnants of Heiwajima Shizuo that lie on her; Mayonaka's _his_ interesting human, not that blond brute's. She is his to study, his to play with.

He grabs her by the chin and forces her to look up at him, and she pauses unzipping his pants. He leans down to her, and their lips are only a few, sparse centimeters away. Then she jerks her head away. "No."

"No?" He laughs at her, and her green eyes glare at him for a moment before returning to their blankness. "No! I guess you don't want to find out that bad, Mayo-chan."

"I..." He can see a battle waging inside of her head, but he knows he'll win. He always does, and she is in no position to tell him no. "Fine."

Izaya grins before erasing the tiny distance that separates them, and her lips are still and hesitant against his for a moment before she returns the motions. He cannot help the smile that curves his mouth even as he keeps kissing her, and his hand snakes to the back of her head to grasp at her inky black hair.

"Good girl," He mumbles against her lips smugly, but she doesn't retract her head at his words. She won't; he has her, now. Again.

Because he has staked his claim way before Heiwajima Shizuo has ever met her. He's already gone through her rise and fall. And if it had been left at that, she would have been like every other human out there in the city that he used to alleviate his boredom. But here she is, still trying to cling to life, trying to piece together whatever she can find. That makes her so very interesting to him.

That makes her the toy that he has already broken, the toy that has haphazardly glued itself back together. He wants to see how far this game can go; how many times can he ruin her? How many times will she emerge from the ashes?

Izaya's willing to play the game as long as it takes to find out. He's already started it months and months ago, before the three months that she woke up anew. Yes, the original rise and fall that began as nothing but a time killer for him -

He's the one who caused it, after all.

* * *

Shizuo slams the door to his apartment before his eyes land on her jacket that's still hanging up on the coat rack. He swallows hard before reaching a hand out to it - he isn't entirely sure he wants to do this. He doesn't think he wants to know if Mayonaka truly killed other living beings, but his hand gravitates towards it against his own will.

He takes the jacket off of the rack and pats the left pocket. He wants to sigh in relief when he doesn't feel anything, but there's still one more to check.

His hand reaches into the right pocket - there's something inside. Something small and sharp, because he can dimly feel it lightly slice the skin on his fingers. Slowly, he takes a hold of the item and brings it out.

Shizuo lets out a loud curse, before he throws the tiny knife so hard that it sticks into the wall he's facing, handle deep.

* * *

**A/N**: Plot twist anyone :'D? Izaya, you conniving scumbag~ in case anyone is confused, he's had a major part in why she is the way she is now... He's just neglecting to tell her that because it's all a game to him.

Hope I kept everyone IC :X... Also, I'm curious as to if anything in this chapter has caused anyone's votes to sway~ Let me know!

Please please please keep up all these wonderful, magnificent reviews. They seriously kick my butt in gear to try and make the story better than it would be without them!

Thanks for reading, my wonderful readers (and hopefully reviewers :D) and let me know what you thought~ I'm dying to hear it.


	11. it says i've nothing left for concealing

**A/N**: Thanks for the reviews, everyone, they're just as pretty and nice as always... Not much to say, I don't think, except I'm a bit worried about OOCness. But you guys can let me know, and will, I'm sure. I hope. :D...

Oh! And Paper Island, I don't know why you call her Morisaki! Yet! I'm not the brightest bulb in the box. I'm trying to figure it out though... And, and, I am happy that you decided to read mine. I feel honored!

I don't own Durarara.

* * *

_it's your look of loss_

_it says, "i've nothing left for concealing."_

**chapter ten**

Suddenly, it all makes sense to him. That time she'd come over to get Izaya's address. He had felt like he was missing part of the big picture when she had frozen at the words coming from the radio, reporting about the newest murder. The way she looked tonight, bloody and eyes empty. When he had wiped her face, the few cuts on there wouldn't be nearly enough to produce so much blood.

Had she been doing this all along? _Killing _people? But despite the signs and the bloody knife jammed into his wall, he still can't fully soak it in. There was usually an indifferent aura about her, and maybe she wasn't exactly a role model; but a murderer?

And furthermore, could she really be the killer that was starting to get the city into a frenzy? The one that no one could get a grip on? It would certainly explain her reluctance to share anything with him, he cannot deny that.

He knew Celty wouldn't lie; there was no reason for her to, and she wasn't that type of person to begin with. Shizuo realizes grimly that really, he doesn't know what type of person _Mayonaka_ is - but most everything points to bad news.

She had never did anything to try to physically harm him, not like she could anyway, and not that he is aware of. But maybe that didn't anything. Maybe she had heard about his repuation, yet acted like she was oblivious about it.

Even if she is, he's sure he would've seen something, anything akin to the fear that came from the people who did know who he was. Killer or no, he had always been able to raise up fear just by looking at someone with a scowl on his face. In a way, he truly was an animal.

It was easy, natural for him to detect fear, especially when it was directed at him. But not once had he seen her look frightened of him - until tonight. As Shizuo drops onto his bed, he thinks that even now, he still feels guilty for pushing her. The sharp cry rings through his head, and he shoves his face into the pillow miserably.

And even moreso than the guilt that gnaws at him, Shizuo, the man who hates violence, feels utterly ridiculous that he's started to have feelings for the girl who seems to be executing the worst kind.

* * *

Mayonaka gives a last, furtive glance at Izaya's door for a few seconds before she forces her eyes forward again and begins to walk down the hallway. Her face may not show it, but she's angry. She's angry and she's confused, and she doesn't know how her past self would feel, but the present Mayonaka doesn't like feeling that way. At all.

She's angry because he kissed her - the one thing she has sworn to keep in the reserves until she found someone that she hears she's supposed to like. Be attached to, feel the meaning of the silly words like romance and love, and she feels none of those things towards Orihara Izaya. Most of all, she's angry that she let him.

But did she really have a choice? Well, certainly, she could have said no. Could have said no and walked right out, but then she would have been walking out on the only chance she has found to find out about herself. As she waits for the elevator, she rubs her hand against her mouth roughly in disdain.

And the confusion that she feels is thanks to him, as well. Because right after he took the one thing she has tried to cling to, right after she had tried to go back to what she had been doing - what she was used to, he had told her to go home. Why had he even bothered to kiss her then? It almost seemed like he _knew_ - like he knew that it was the one part of her body she was reluctant to share.

She steps into the elevator and presses the button for the ground floor. No, Mayonaka doesn't understand why he would tell her to stop. It was what he wanted as payment, after all. Nothing comes for free. She can understand that well enough, but she still can't understand him.

All she knows is that after this night, this week she's been having, she wants to get fucked up. She almost reaches for her cell phone to look at the time, to see if it's too late to meet up with Ryuuji, but she realizes she doesn't have her jacket. She left it at Shizuo's, and she curses silently. She thinks she might have left it somewhere else, but she knows it's sitting there on the coat rack.

Mayonaka knows he probably doesn't want to see her right now, but the things she needs are inside his home. The apartment key that she keeps in a small zipper pocket in her sleeve, the cell in her pocket - she at least needs her key, or she could forget about getting inside her apartment and settle down in an alley somewhere.

When she gets outside of the building, she steels herself for the cold and the possible catastrophe that might come along when she knocks on his door this late. Judging by the few people on the streets, it's probably extremely early in the morning. There's no concept of time to her right now. That was lost to her when she was in the van; the thought of the van and the people inside creases her brow as she walks down the sidewalk.

She has a feeling that she's done it again. Maybe she didn't have any recollection of anything, but she knows she did. Really, the blood that was on her clothes could have not been there, and she still would've had an uneasy feeling in her gut from this whole night. She wishes it would go away.

Some time later, she's back in Ikebukuro. She makes her way to Shizuo's as fast as she can; she's cold, she's tired, and she's had a killer headache for a while now. All she wants to do is go home and sleep. And tomorrow, she'll call Ryuuji and take whatever he's got, and she'll get some work done.

Mayonaka hasn't even been able to do that, lately. There's always been something distracting her, or just plain not allowing her. But even so, no matter what may be going on in her life, there are still some bills to be paid and money to be made so she can survive.

Finally, she reaches his complex and the stairs that are slowly starting to become familiar to her. When she walks to his door, she almost expects that obnoxious neighbor to come out and yell at her for walking too loud, or something of the sort. But she is safe from that, because no middle aged woman pokes a disgruntled face outside of the door, and then she's staring at Shizuo's door.

She bites her lip and raises a hesitant hand and knocks lightly. No answer. She knocks harder, once, twice. Nothing. If only her key wasn't in there, she thinks, and knocks harder again.

Mayonaka is almost starting to resign herself to the fact she's screwed until morning when she jumps back in surprise from the door that suddenly swings open.

"_Who the hell is_-" Shizuo growls menacingly, and she tightens a hand around the cool railing she's bumped into from her surprise. His bleary eyes finally notice that it's her standing outside, and he stares at her, an indiscernible look in his eye.

She decides to speak first. "I left my jacket here," She begins, and she notices that he stiffens when she mentions it for some reason. "My key and my phone are in the pockets." As an afterthought, she adds, "Sorry for waking you up."

"Come on." He heads back inside with the door still open for her, and she follows suit and grabs her jacket that's right next to the door. "... How's your shoulder?" He asks her quietly, with his back facing her. Shizuo walks up to the wall facing them, and she sees his arm reach up and grab something.

But past his tall figure, she can't see anything, so she just shifts the bloody jacket that's in her hands, "It's fine." He still does not face her, and she looks around uncertainly before taking a step back. "I'm going to go now-"

"You're sure you haven't forgotten something?" He turns halfway so she can see his profile, and he's looking at something in his hand with furrowed brows, and then he looks to her with a troubled look on his face.

At his words, she squeezes her jacket sleeve and feels the small key inside, then checks another pocket for her cell phone. Both of them are in there. "No."

When the word comes out of her mouth, he strides up to her and shows her what was in his hands. "You're sure?" He asks her with something like a bitter tone in his voice, and her eyes look down.

It's a knife. The knife the man in the van had, the one he had started cutting her up with. She feels her eyes widen, because if she wasn't certain she'd done something horrible again, she was now. "I... How did..." Mayonaka can't help the stuttering that comes out; and then, unlike anything she's felt or experienced before, there are flashes coming back to her.

(_yelling tires screeching into a garage total surprise on their dark faces_

_because she had to, she had to get out alive_

_no remorse no mercy_

_nothing_)

* * *

"It was in your pocket." He tells her, and she continues to stare at it dumbly. "Look. It's none of my business, but-" And then, she does something he never expected her to.

Her face scrunches up, hand shaking as she reaches for the knife - and then it retracts and joins her other hand in covering her face as she begins to cry. Her fingers are digging into her face as the small cries quickly turn into sobs, and then wailing as she slumps down on the floor.

The jacket lies on her lap as she begins to cry so hard her shoulders shake. It's the kind of crying that comes so hard she can barely finish one loud sob before it's choked over by another, and he stares at her in surprise as his hand falls back to his side, still loosely clutching the knife.

He can hear distorted _why_'s come out between the sobs, and he kneels down when he sees that her fingers were starting to dig into her face so hard that there are little bloody crescents from her nails.

"Mayonaka-" He bends and puts a hand on her shoulder, and blinks when she bats it away harshly, yet feebly at the same time.

"Don't _touch _me!" She hisses out, breath wheezing, and then her puffy eyes look up to his. "You found that, and you still..." Her lips shape into a grimace, "D-don't you understand, then? Don't you know that I'm a-" Another wail pours through her lips, "- a _monster_?"

He knows what monsters look like; he is one himself, after all, but he is still hesitant to classify the mess of a girl in front of him as one, even if he's holding solid proof that she is in his hand. Suddenly, her cries stop, and she takes a hold of his pantleg like she did that one night when she was begging for his help.

"Please help me... Shizuo." She pleads, and her other hand attaches to his leg as well. "Please-"

"Mayonaka." She looks up at him hopefully with teary green eyes, and he can't believe he's even going to ask her what she wants instead of kicking her out, like he probably should. She has incredibly erratic behavior, he has noticed, and normal people would probably think she has mental issues. He's not normal himself, and even he's starting to think she does. "... What?"

Her eyes dart to the knife in his hand, then back to his face. "You can help me. You can help me, and you can help everyone else... if you can just-" She stops, and her lips waver before the next words come out. "If you can just end everything." Again, her eyes look at his hand - more specifically, the knife - and he knows what she wants.

"What the _hell_? No!" He is aghast at the suggestion. Shizuo steps back, but she just keeps a grip on him and slumps over the carpet from his movement.

"Please..."

She keeps staring up at him, but she must see in his eyes that there's no way he will do that. There's no way in hell Shizuo's going to take her life because she knows how to say _please. _There's no way he would willingly take anyone's life, except for maybe the flea - and even if she does seem like she might be missing a few screws loose, he doesn't think it's any reason to kill her. Even if she truly is the murderer, he still does not think he could do it.

Suddenly, her eyes stare at the floor before she lets go of his leg. Then, she grabs her jacket and stands up, and in a flash, she swipes the knife he's still holding loosely in his hand. Once it's in her hand, she begins to go out the door.

There's some kind of war going on in his head right now. He can let her walk out, where she'll surely _end everything_ herself, or he can haul her back to prevent her from doing so.

And to what's most likely against his better judgement, he follows her outside where she's going down the stairs and grabs her by the collar of her dress.

"You really think I'll let you do something like that? Especially when you make it so obvious?" She kicks and waves her arms at him, and he just puts her over his shoulder, ignoring the punches she's beginning to pummel onto his back with a low grunt.

"Let me go! _Shizuo_!" She yells, and this is the first time he's probably ever heard her raise her voice - at least, outside of the times they'd been in bed together. But those times seem so very far away, despite it only having been a couple days. He thinks he should've cut things off there.

Maybe if he had, he wouldn't be embroiling himself further in whatever she was dealing with. He's pretty sure he's about to pull what people call a suicide watch, and grunts again in distaste. It's mostly at himself.

Kicking and shrieking, she's still over his shoulder as he goes back inside and kicks the door shut, then drops her on her couch. Green eyes glare up at him furiously, and she makes to move right off the couch again.

"Sit _down_, damn it!" He yells at her. Shizuo's tired and annoyed now, but he still can't bring himself to let her go and do what she so obviously has in store for herself.

His tone must get across exactly how tired and annoyed he is, because the glare wavers and she sits down, fists clenched at her sides.

"Please let me leave." She utters quietly. He sighs and runs a hand through his blond hair, and examines her. Once he does, he sees she looks just as tired as he thinks he does, maybe even more. The black eye is almost gone, a shadow of it being the only thing left that hinted that she even had one.

"You need to tell me what the hell's going on."

Maybe she doesn't, but if he's saddling himself down for this, he might as well know what he's getting himself into. He grabs two cigarettes from the pack on the table, handing one to her. Without much hesitance she takes it and sticks it in her mouth. He lights his, then reaches across to light hers, and she sucks down the first drag like she hasn't had one in weeks.

"Why?" She asks him, once she's taken in some nicotine. "Why do you even care so much, Shizuo?" It's a valid question, sort of. "I'm no one to you. I'm no one to everyone. So why?"

Mayonaka can't truly think she's no one. Surely, there is someone out there that cares about her. He voices this, "Everyone? Aren't you being a little too self pitying?" He's had his share of pity parties himself, but even he can say he's someone.

"Answer the question," She demands. She ashes her cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, then bites her lip and stares at him, waiting.

"Why do I care?" The way he repeats the question is probably more for himself than anything. "Because..." Shizuo trails off and looks at her again, then moves to sit on the couch next to her, hand on his forehead. "I don't know. You..."

Before he says anything else, he questions himself on whether he's really going to breach this subject, but he takes the plunge and does anyway. "In a way, you're sort of... special. To me." Even in this situation, he looks away as he can feel his face slightly heating up in embarrassment.

"... What?" He sneaks a glance at her again, and there's a bewildered look on her face, her cigarette drooping in her hand as she stares at him. "Special. Me... to you?" She reiterates, and the he looks away again and takes another drag.

"Something like that," Shizuo mumbles. "You were the only person who's willing to come near me in... that way."

"... What?"

"The hell have I told you about repeating yourself- ah, forget it... I meant in the way that..." He stares at the cherry on his cigarette. "No one else would probably ever have sex with me, alright?" Shizuo spits out roughly, and hearing the words sounds a lot more humiliating than they do inside of his head.

"I don't see why not," Mayonaka murmurs, and then he's certain she definitely doesn't know who he is. "... Is that the only reason why? Because we fucked?"

He almost wants to wince at how harsh the last word sounds, but he just takes another puff. "And you seem... lonely, I guess. And I know how that feels. There's just something..." He scratches his head. Shizuo has never really been good with words, after all - getting what she had gotten from him was probably the best she would hear for now.

There's a light clinking from her spot on the couch, and he looks at her. She's fiddling with the rosary that she always has on, gnawing on her lip with downcast eyes and furrowed brows. And well, he's at least glad she's not throwing some kind of fit or still trying to commit suicide - maybe he's done something right - but there is still an air of something about her, something that tells him she has nothing left to lose, maybe. Nothing left to hide.

"Shizuo." Finally, her head comes back up, and she scoots closer to him on the couch. Mayonaka keeps doing that until their legs are touching, and she leans towards him so close that he can see the gold flecks again.

And without any warning, she leans forward and kisses him. It's nothing major, or long, or deep. It's just a kiss, a simple peck on the lips, but he can feel himself reeling back all the same.

Mayonaka sees the way he almost jumps back, and goes to move back to where she was originally seated. "I'm sorry," She whispers, putting her cigarette out. He doesn't think he's ever heard her sound that shy, and something about the way she sounds and her sudden kiss sets him off.

Even though he'll probably regret this, what he's about to do to this girl and her whirlwind emotions, he puts out his cigarette and turns to face her. She's looking down again and still playing around with her rosary. "Mayonaka."

As soon as her eyes meet his, his hand goes around to the back of her head and pulls her to him. He isn't sure if it's because of his strength or her own doing that she ends up almost sprawled onto his lap, but he can't find it in him to care right now. Her eyes are wide and staring into his, but they close as their lips connect again.

Yes, he will probably regret everything he's had to do with this girl that has lied about her name, stolen from him, just had what he thinks was a breakdown in his living room. But for now, he decides that he'll just pick her up and throw her onto his bed, and make up for way too much lost time with the one person that will let him.

Regret and explanations can wait for the morning, he thinks, as he does exactly what he decided on.

* * *

**A/N**: So... OOC? Not OOC? Mayonaka being crazy (again) too crazy this time? I don't know, y'all let me know. And ah, sorry for the lack of Izaya, but he'll be around next chapter... And then I will try to start fitting in explanations. :D

Uhm, I feel like I might be forgetting something, but I'm tired and just moved so...

Review, please! I always feel so proud everytime someone does~\

Thanks for reading. Reviewww~


	12. sunrise, sunset, let that fever play

**A/N**: Short chapter, kind of. Hope no one minds too much :x! And thanks for the reviews, everyone~ Though I'm a bit sad that there weren't as many as usual... /end whining.

Hope you guys enjoy, though. And don't mind the fact there's three lines of lyrics instead of the normal two.

I don't own Durarara.

* * *

_did you really think she'd stay? it's all about the things that get stuck inside of your head_

_ leading to the point where you just won't know what to do_

_sunrise, sunset, let that fever play_

**chapter eleven**

five months ago

Izaya sometimes likes to take a trip to a certain building in Ikebukuro. There's nothing special about it, really, except for the fact that numerous people have deemed it a good enough spot to jump off and kill themselves.

There's probably a small chance that someone is up there, but he goes up the stairs that lead to the rooftop, anyway. Because if someone's going to off themselves, he figures that they'll do it in the dead of night, with no one else to witness their ungraceful and gruesome descent to the pavement.

He whistles a nonsense tune to himself as he bounds up the stairs, quietly opening up the door. Izaya doesn't want to alert anyone to his presence unless he deems it to be that way, after all. The air is still somewhat warm, since it's only the very beginning of fall. He breathes it in joyfully when he spots a person standing on the unsafe side of the railing, staring down at what he's sure is a gory splotch of people that used to be.

Silently, he moves forward; the person does not seem to notice his approach, as there's no move from them. Once he gets close enough, he sees it's a girl. She's stock still, staring over the edge; Izaya decides he will let her know she's not alone.

After all, when he does see someone on that ledge, most likely pondering their existence or whatever reason they want to jump off, he wants to hear it. He'll be the last confidant that person has before they cease to be; he will guide them through it, figuratively hold their hand through their transition from alive to dead - he will be the last person they see. Maybe they will even see his face as they rush to the ground below.

He loves humans so much that he doesn't mind bestowing himself as one final reassurance to them.

"Hello there," Izaya starts, and the girl jumps the tiniest bit, clutching onto the railing behind her before turning to look at him in the eye. He notes the way she grabs the only thing that keeps her from falling, and thinks that she's one of _those_. One of the ones that always thinks about actually going through with it, but when it comes down to it, cannot. "Planning to put an end to your life? Is it miserable? Is it pointless?"

To what is _almost_ his surprise, the girl laughs. "Planning to end my life?" She smiles and tilts her head at him. "Why would I do such a thing?"

"Why else would you be standing on such a thin ledge if you had no intent of doing that?" He smirks. "The wind might blow you over, you know."

"Because I can see it so much better this way." Comes her answer, and he takes a seat on the railing next to her.

"See what? That ugly dark stain, down there? I didn't know girls liked doing things like that! Maybe I have more to learn about humans..."

"You're human too, aren't you?" She retorts, "And I don't know if you'd want to see what I can see."

"Ah, but of course I do!" He leans closer to her, but she does not lean away; instead, she leans towards him, too, like they're both magnets. "Tell me what you see! Are you sure it's not yourself? Falling down there to make that stain even bigger?"

"Why would I do such a thing?" The girl repeats herself. "And maybe I can see myself... but not in the way you just said."

"So tell me, tell me~ How cruel of you to leave me hanging..." Izaya whines playfully. The girl is the first to lean away, and she stares back over the ledge again with a dreamy smile on her face.

"I have no intention of killing myself." She states again. Perhaps it is what she tells herself to keep herself from jumping, Izaya thinks knowingly. "I was thinking... I was seeing, visualizing..." The girl's smile widens, and then she looks him right in the eye.

At her next words, Izaya discovers that he is both wrong in his assumptions and intrigued, and a delicious rush of excitement snakes through him.

"... How wonderful it would be to push someone off."

* * *

present day

When Mayonaka wakes up, she is alone in the bed. She blinks slowly, and her hand lazily sweeps the spot where the blond should be. Glancing up at the clock, she sees that it's almost two in the afternoon. She rests her head on the pillow, hand retreating from the sheets to lay on top of her rosary.

She thinks he might like her. Or maybe he just doesn't want the guilt of someone taking their life on his hands, the guilt of not doing anything about it. It's the more likely thing to think has happened.

Either way, she thinks she might like him, too.

She finall sits up, rubs her eyes, then slips on her dress. She almost forgets it has blood stains (_did it again_) on it until she smooths it down, and she stares at them for a moment before running a hand through her hair and leaving the bedroom. As she walks out, she hears Shizuo talking on the phone, and she silently walks to where he's sitting, back to her.

"-Alright. I'll see you soon, Tom-san." He flips the phone shut and she clears her throat quietly. "Morning," He says, turning to her.

"Good morning," She mumbles back. "Are you... going somewhere?"

"Work," Shizuo nods.

Work. That's something she's still slacking on, and she casts her eyes down. "I'll be out in a few minutes, then."

True to her word, she gathers her few things and walks to the door with Shizuo trailing behind her.

"Mayonaka." She glances back at him expectantly, and he looks her straight in the eye, face serious. "Don't do whatever you were planning to do last night... idiot."

Honestly, she can't make any promises - and had anyone else called her an idiot, she wouldn't let it go like she does for him. "Yeah." If it'll prevent him from wasting his time worrying about someone like her, she figures she can make a false one.

"Ah..." He adjusts the blue sunglasses he has on, sliding them up his nose. "Tonight, are you-"

"I'll be working," Mayonaka tells him simply. "I need to make money, you know?"

Shizuo just looks away. "Right."

Mayonaka cannot think of anything more to tell him. So she just reaches up and straightens his bow tie, "See you, Shizuo," and turns on her heel and makes her way back to her apartment.

"Be careful," He mutters to the air.

* * *

"Mayo-chan! Where have you been?" Izaya jumps gracefully off the railing he was sitting on, hands in his pockets as he spins to face the girl walking to her door. Mayonaka's glad she's balled up the jacket in her arms in a way that none of the stains are visible, especially to his prying eyes.

"It's none of your business," Is her immediate answer, and she barely throws him a passing glance as she takes the key out of her jacket. "Why are you here?"

"That's so mean!" He exclaims, and then his face is in hers. "I was bored, obviously. So you really won't tell me where you were? I was here for almost an hour!"

"Not my fault, Orihara." She gives him a strange look as he leans even closer and sniffs her. Izaya then proceeds to make a face, one that tells her he smells something terrible.

"Ah, I see, I see." He sighs dramatically, and she is about to just walk in her apartment and shut the door in his face, but his foot is in the way of the jam. "Shizu-chan? What bad taste you have..."

"I told you I didn't know any 'Shizu-chan'." She glares at him. "Now get your foot out of my way before it gets cut off from the door."

"Really, Mayo-chan. What have I ever done to make you think I'm an idiot?" He'll let it go for now, and he pouts at her before waving his hand and making it look like he's about to leave. "I just came by to tell you something I found out, but-"

"What?" The door opens a bit more instead of closing. He smirks, knowing she cannot see how it grows wide.

"-but since I'd like to keep my foot - it's a useful thing to have - I'll just go back to Shinjuku, I guess."

"... Fine." In a tone of voice that sounds like she's pained, she says, "Come in."

"How welcoming of you!" Izaya turns right around, nodding to her as he walks in and she closes the door behind him.

"Get to the point." She gestures for him to get a move on, then crosses her arms as Izaya takes a seat on her couch.

"Someone's impatient! It's not like you work until night, anyway. Right?" He grins at her innocently, and the glare comes back full force. "All right, all right! Well, Mayo-chan, I've found out some things about your family."

"Family?" Mayonaka breathes out, and all traces of the scornful look on her face vanish at his words. It's replaced by widened eyes, and her crossed arms fall to land at her sides. There's a small look of hope that flits across her face.

"Mmm," Izaya nods. "Only child, with a mother and father..."

"Where are they?" She asks quickly. Izaya narrows his eyes in anticipation of her reaction at what he's going to say next.

"Dead." He says, ever the nonchalant one. "Seems like they were both only children as well, but I haven't been able to dig up anything on any grandparents."

Izaya looks at her, but she doesn't look like she's listening. Whatever hope she had is definitely gone now, and she turns away from him. He wonders if she's crying. Izaya grins and examines his nails.

"How did they die?" Mayonaka asks, voice hushed.

"Do you really want to know?" The lilting tone is his voice must infuriate her, because he sees her fists clench at her sides. Izaya thinks she'll turn around and glare at him again for being such an ignorant bastard.

Instead, she turns around, face blank. "No." A slow blink. "I don't want to know. ... Did you find anything else out?"

"One day at a time, Mayo-chan! Even someone as great as I-"

"Then get out." She walks back to the door, opening it and looking at him expectantly.

Izaya sighs and shrugs, "Not so welcoming, after all!" But still, he glides to the door anyway, giving her forehead a tap with his index finger. "See you later, Mayo-chan."

Once she shuts the door after him, she locks it and runs a hand through her hair. She's somewhat thankful he has kept true to his word, but in a way, she wishes she didn't just find out that information. Maybe she would be better off thinking she had parents out there, not knowing if they were alive or not.

She sighs and goes into her bedroom, throwing the crumpled jacket in the bottom of her closet. She doesn't feel like figuring out how to dispose of it right now. Instead, she heads straight for the shower to clean herself from last night's wretched events, and she throws herself onto the bed to sleep afterwards until she has to get up.

When night falls and Mayonaka's cleaned herself up, she steps out the door with her cell to her ear. "Ryuuji? Are you good?" A beat of silence, then: "Okay, I'll be there soon."

Twenty minutes later, she reaches the club where Ryuuji practically lives at. The pulsing lights and music irritate her, but she knows that they won't (_when i'm fucked up_) soon enough.

"Hey," She announces her presence to a man sitting down in one of the few dark corners inside. "Two."

Ryuuji nods and pinches out two little pills, and her hand reaches out to take them. Suddenly, his hand retracts. "You know, Risa, you're all business and no pleasure. Why's that?" He tilts his head, smirk on his face. It reminds her of Izaya.

"Shouldn't matter to you, Ryuuji." She retorts, then places her hand out again. "I've got the money, so-"

"How about a change of pace tonight?" His eyes rake up and down her form suggestively as she stares at him blankly. Mayonaka knows what he wants without him even having to say anything. "I'll give you these - and since you're all _business_, I'll throw in some money, too."

"... Yeah, sure. I want those first, though."

He chuckles at her as he finally allows her to grab them, and she tosses them down her throat and grabs his drink to chase them down. "Are we going to a hotel?" She asks him, swallowing down the last remnants of bitterness. She doesn't know if the bitterness is stemming from the pills and the drink, or from how she sees a flash of blond (_sunny_) hair in her mind's eye.

"Why go to a hotel if we can just stay here?" Ryuuji stands, then gestures for her to follow him. "I may not have a lot of connections, but I have enough to be able to fuck upstairs."

* * *

"Something on your mind?"

"No," Shizuo responds, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. "Why?"

"You've been quiet all day, that's all. Not saying that you're a chatterbox or anything, but-"

"I'm fine, Tom-san." He interjects, and tries to change the subject. "Who's next?"

He's really fine, fine enough, at least. But he's still worrying about Mayonaka. He hopes she hasn't done anything stupid like she was planning to; and even though he knows the other thing he worries about is inevitable, he hopes she's not standing outside on a corner, waiting for a client to come by. A client who will just use her to their own whim, pay her, then leave.

Shizuo ignores the fact that he's used her in the past, just like they have.

"Ah... Sakamoto Ryuuji. Last one." Tom scratches his dreads. "He's usually at some club around here..."

Tom's words flit in and out of his head as he stares at the ground, cigarette between his lips. She had never made any promises to him, and he had made none to her. He was aware that her job consisted of being with other men, and Mayonaka even told him that she was going to work tonight. But he still can't help that it bothers him.

He still doesn't know what he would've tried to ask her earlier, had she not cut him off with that statement. The words had sort of just come up against his own will and better judgement. Shizuo doesn't know if she goes on dates or anything like that - and he certainly is not one for them, either. He thinks somewhat bitterly that he might have had to pay to have her spend tonight with him.

But he does not want to be like the other men. He doesn't want to have to lure her in with the promise of money, or anything like that. As horribly cheesy as it sounds, he would want Mayonaka to see him of her own accord. She's done that, sure, but he would like it to be different.

Different in the way that she isn't covered in blood, or trembling in terror of something on his doorstep. Different in that she wasn't coming to his place just to retrieve her key, which had turned into her breaking down and proclaiming herself a monster. He also has to wonder why she thinks she's a monster, when there's one so plainly in sight in front of her to give her an idea of what a true (_monster a real monster_) one looks like.

The club's only a few minutes away, and when they get inside it's too dark and crowded to even try to spot him. First they ask the people surrounding them if they've seen him, and most ignore them or just shake their head. They ask the bartender, who tells them he's around here somewhere - deciding they'll get better answers from the staff, they begin to ask them.

"Who wants to know?" asks a huge bouncer; but his eyes soon drift from Tom, who asked him, to Shizuo. He probably recognizes the blond, because he just puffs up and jerks a thumb towards a set of stairs. "He's up there, where the private parties are usually held. But he's up there with some-"

"Thanks," Tom cuts him off, giving a nod to Shizuo as they head to the stairs and start ascending them.

Shizuo just mumbles his agreement. His mind is still somewhat occupied by Mayonaka - occupied with trying to shove down a bit of jealousy he's feeling. But he has no reason to be jealous, really. She's a prostitute. An _escort,_ he finds he uncomfortably corrects himself. Just like she would've.

"I'm starting to get tired," Tom lets out a wide yawn as they reach a thick door at the end o f the hallway. "I hope this one doesn't give us trouble." Shizuo can agree with that - he's not really in the mood to throttle anyone, at least right at this moment.

But when he pushes open the door and his eyes meet the sight inside, he hopes beyond hope that the son of a bitch does.

* * *

**A/N**: Just to clarify the last sentence, it would be something like... he's hoping that he gives him trouble so he has a reason to throttle him. Not like it's ever stopped him before, but... yeah. :D

Hope you guys liked reading the latest chapter, and sorry if it's noticeably shorter!

Be kind to me and give me some reviews, yeah? Yeaaah? It'll make me write faster! Hopefully that's incentive. :)

Thanks for reading!


	13. cause there's no sure footing

**A/N**: I think this is the shortest chapter I have up here... either way, I hope you guys enjoy! Put in more flashback goodness at the end, too, so enjoy. Oh! And to answer some questions, because I always forget to respond to reviewers... so mean of me, I know D:!

**Nixxy**: Thanks for always reviewing like, all my stories, you faithful person you :D! And yes, bad moment for them to try and finish up the job... and yeah, it was Mayonaka in the last chapter~

**DreamWalker**: You too are another faithful reviewer, and I'm so grateful for that! Glad you enjoyed the Shizuo angst and the flashback, there's another one at the end of this chapter. :)

**Lystrious**: Pshhh, you know how much I love your reviews already! It's funny, you tell me taking breaks is good (which they are!) but at the same time when you tell me that, it indirectly gets my butt in gear... does that make sense? Haha...

**JiseiHakushaku**: I'm glad you get scared, it means part of my job has been done! :D;; And thanks for telling me you'll be reviewing from now on, too~ Soooo appreciated! I'm happy you think I've kept everyone IC, too.

**Sepsis**: Nope, Mayonaka's s.o.l. in that department, sadly... And no, he won't be pleased at all! Thanks for always reviewing~

**Mako**: Yeah, it kind of is like a scary soap opera, isn't it? Oh man, talking about soap operas just reminded me to watch the k-dramas that come on TV at midnight. Thanks for reviewing and reminding me of that! :D

**Pippa**: I feel so honored! Main reason you say? Oh my gosh! And indeed, it was Mayonaka in the last chapter's flashback... And I've read most of what's available for the light novels, ah... anni _ fiesta (delete the spaces) at livejournal translates them. :) Thanks for reviewing, and being one of the ones that always does, haha~

**Morning Mist**: One sitting! I'm really happy to know you got hooked into my story, it gives me such a good feeling... I'm glad you like Mayonaka, too. She's probably the favorite of any OC I have. And I don't think you're rambling at all, long reviews are the best best best ones!

**Static Lull**: Thank you for the compliments! :D And I'm glad that you too like Mayonaka, and don't see any cliches going on... whew!

**ALSO:** I'm aways itching to write something, but I have too many stories to start long ones... so I'm going to start up the gift-fic thing again, since it gives me an excuse to write a one-shot! Even better if it's someone that reviews my story, because you reviewers are what keep me writing, anyways.

I'm gonna say... uhmmm... let's try for... **135th **(eep that seems high) reviewer gets a fic from me. Incentive, I hope. :D

I don't own Durarara.

* * *

_how's hope feeling today? tired and sick of this place_

_so it's better my sweet that we hover like bees;_

_'cause there's no sure footing..._

**chapter twelve**

Mayonaka sort of despises herself as she walks up the stairs behind Ryuuji. Despite how terrible everything has been recently, it almost feels like getting back into the routine of her work is even more so. Ryuuji shoots her a look, one laced with lustful intentions, behind him once they reach a short hallway. She detests that, too.

She wishes the pills would kick in faster. Then, maybe, she wouldn't feel this way. She'll just feel floaty and woozy and without a care, and those three things are anything but how she actually feels at the moment. The room they enter is actually somewhat nice; it's not as large as downstairs, not by a long shot. There's a few tables scattered around, a dance floor in the middle. There's a bar off to the side stocked with all sorts of bottles (_liquid joy_), and Mayonaka makes a mental note to herself to grab a bottle from it after all this is over.

Ryuuji goes over to one of the tables, pulling out a chair and facing it side by side with it. "Come on, Risa." He smiles at her. She does not return the sentiment, but she walks over to him anyway. She stands before him, waiting for him to tell her what to do. He does this without words, by unzipping his pants and looking at her expectantly, his eyes going down to the floor then back to her again.

Biting back a sigh, she gets on her knees, ignoring how the hard floor feels like it will give her bruises. She looks up at him one last time, and sets to work; a few minutes later, she's still in between his sprawled out legs, and her jaw is starting to ache.

Tears are pooling at the corners of her eyes from the forceful way Ryuuji's hands are weaved into her hair, pulling and pushing her head (_hate this hate this_) forward and back, and the motions that jab her throat as he forces himself in and out. Mayonaka wishes at least this was someone else she was doing this to, but she cuts off her thoughts midway before someone's face pops up into her head.

If that happens, she has a feeling she will not be able to continue; and then that means that she'll have pissed off the only drug dealer she knows, also her current customer. She knows he's enjoying it, it's obvious by the breathy moans and encouragements he's giving her; but she just wants it to be over. She wants to feel the effect of these stupid pills, wants to get her money, and move on to someone else.

She hides a cringe as she can even start to feel drool slide down the corners of her mouth, sweat starting to collect at her temples and fluids messily spread around her mouth. Hating how she thinks she's never felt this disgusted with herself before - blood and murder and bad things she knows she's been doing aside - the door slams open, and Mayonaka will discover that in the next minute it can get even worse.

* * *

Shizuo's pulse quickens as he takes in the sight in front of him. He barely hears Tom clear his throat somewhat awkwardly and turn his head away from the scene, but Shizuo's eyes feel like they're glued to it.

He wants to believe that it isn't her; after all, he can only see short, dark choppy hair and a small, thin body clothed in a skimpy dress; but at the slam of the door closing, his fears are confirmed when both inhabitants of the room look up in surprise at the sudden sound.

His eyes immediately zero in on how much of a mess she looks, eyes watery and wet, saliva coming down the side of her mouth to her chin; most of all, he notes how the man she's kneeling in front of has his hands in Mayonaka's short strands, clutched tightly to the scalp and holding her head in place. His blood boils when he realizes what the man has jammed in her throat (_i'll kill kill kill 'em_), even as she had turned to look at them.

And if all of that wasn't enough, the man indeed gives Shizuo a reason - at least, reason enough for him - to go and beat the shit out of him. He untangles his hands from her hair, shoving her to the side. Mayonaka's head hits the corner of the table with an audible, dull thump, and she lets out a sharp cry before slumping over and holding the side of her head.

All he can see is red, and all he can hear is the blood in his ears resounding quickly like a frantic marching band as his fist tightens, and his hand reaches up to remove the blue sunglasses from his face. "The _hell_..." He murmurs quietly; it's the momentary, split second calm before the storm. Tom recognizes this, and both backs up and tries to tell him to calm down.

"... do you think you're doing to her!" Shizuo roars, and Tom's plea to hold on falls on deaf ears as Shizuo lunges at the man, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him off to the side. The girl leans back to avoid getting hit further; the man, Ryuuji, slides across and stares with wide eyes, trying to desperately fiddle with his pants to close them back up.

Shizuo grabs the table that Mayonaka is practically cowering under, the same one she hit her head on. He rips it from its bolted position, and he throws it full force at the man. A leg of the table stabs at his the man's gut, and he coughs up blood (_good you bastard_) and scuttles backwards, stricken with fear. Shizuo can see it in his face, and it sets his blood on fire in violent delight.

"Shizuo!" Tom calls from behind him, trying to hold him back by his arm; Shizuo still pays no mind, his teeth showing from the sneering curl of his lips. As much as he's told himself not to be jealous and irrational when it comes to her, he has just shown himself he can't not be.

Mayonaka should never have to look like that. She should never look so in despair with various, wet fluids on her face and someone's hands tightly clutching her hair, his mind dimly thinks; but the first and foremost thought on his mind is to make this bastard _hurt _and _hurt _and _hurt_.

"C-calm down, man!" The man sputters as Shizuo stalks towards him. "Who the fuck are you, anyways!" He spits out some blood as Shizuo picks up another table on his way to the man, who he had thrown so far and has crawled back to make distance between himself and the angry blond. "She's just a hooker-"

Those words sign his fate with figurative permanent ink, and Shizuo (_she's just an _escort_, but he's just a monster_) throws the table at him with another angry howl; this time, the surface hits him straight on the head and he's knocked out, head clunking to the floor.

"Shizuo..." Tom chides gently; he knows Shizuo can't help his anger pretty much all of the time, so he always treads lightly when it comes to calming him down.

The dark skinned man glances at the girl on the floor who's wiping her face and staring at them with wide eyes; the _her_Shizuo had been yelling about. And now that he gets a better look at her, he remembers her from that one passing moment she had walked out of Shizuo's door. It only takes a second for him to make the connection.

_"An acquaintance." _Shizuo had said; the man knocked out had claimed _"She's just a hooker-" _Tom doesn't know which aspect of this situation is harder to wrap his mind around. The fact Shizuo's been with a prostitute, and the second, no offense to his partner - the fact that there exists such a woman that must like to hurt, to be with him.

Most of all, the hardest thing is the fact that he thinks Shizuo might have certain feelings for her, the mess of a girl trembling on the floor, staring up at them. _"It's not like that, Tom-san." _Shizuo had told him; but once he watches Shizuo's heaving shoulders rise and fall with angry breaths, watches him slowly turn to face the girl with an unreadable face, he gets the suspicion that it very much _is_ like that.

He clears his throat. "I'm taking him out in the hallway. I'll see what he's got..." Tom gets the feeling he's talking to himself, but he feels it would be wrong of him to be there; so he grabs the man's arms and drags him back through the door, and it closes behind them and leaves Shizuo and the girl alone.

* * *

Mayonaka finds herself at a loss for words. She's seen Shizuo heft up two of those heavy tables like they were nothing above his head, and throw them with ease at Ryuuji. She knew he was strong - the bruises on her body, underneath her clothes, are testament to that.

But to lift something that was bolted down to the floor; it bothers her. Not even the fact that he's able to do such a feat, but that she now realizes there is so little she really knows about Heiwajima Shizuo. The aura around him feels volatile (_please don't be mad shizuo please_), even as he turns to face her and a door slams shut; she pays it no mind, but she discovers she can't look Shizuo in the eye. She wonders why - she thinks it might be shame.

His footsteps echo throughout the now quiet room, and they stop in front of her until his feet are in her line of vision. Still, she cannot bring herself to look up from his polished black shoes, cheeks burning pink as she wipes her face again. She hears him rustle in his pocket, and then there's a flick of a lighter and a waft of delicious smoke that drifts around.

"Mayonaka."

Right after he says her name, the pills finally start to kick in; she feels her eyes start rolling up into the back of her head, and she clenches them shut. She doesn't want him to see her like this; not Shizuo. And she never, ever wanted him to see her in the middle of business with a customer. The familiar light feeling takes over her limbs and her head, and she sways a little.

To her dismay, when she opens her eyes she sees that his face is now in front of hers, and he's kneeling in front of her. The cigarette is in between his index and thumb as he takes another drag and stares at her with those coffee colored eyes.

"Don't look at me," She mumbles and tilts her head down even further (_don't deserve to have you care_). Something warm and wet lands on her folded knees; she's crying. Mayonaka wishes she could gather up the strength to run away, but she feels cemented to the spot. Without a word, Shizuo's cigarette is placed between his lips and he uses his now free hands to pull her towards him.

"... You're an idiot," Shizuo tells her, sounding tired and weary.

But despite the name calling, his fingers clench tightly against her body as she finds herself fully in his embrace. Silently, more tears begin to fall and she scrunches up her face and shoves it into the crook of his arm and starts to let out sobs.

Out of all the things she hopes he's not mad at her for, Mayonaka just hopes he doesn't mind that she's getting his sleeve wet.

* * *

They've found some sort of weird, amicable companionship in the short period of time they've been meeting. He finds himself dropping by Ikebukuro more, even though there's no more gang affairs to meddle in. He comes for her viewpoint on things; it's different, refreshing. She's almost like a breath of fresh air in the throng of the stale, simple-minded humans he loves so much.

"You see that little kid over there?" Mayonaka points out to him, and he looks to where she's subtly pointing. There's a small child tugging at his mother's hand, pointing to a toy in the window. The mother shakes her head sternly, and the child pouts and stomps his foot.

"What about him?" Izaya drawls. They've also taken up people watching together, and it is exactly what they're doing now, sitting in a coffee shop and looking out into the street.

"What do you think he's thinking right now?" She asks him, then takes a sip of her coffee.

"That he wants the toy, Mayo-chan. I'm far more intelligent than that, you know," he sniffs indignantly, but waits for her opinion anyways.

"That much is obvious, Izaya-kun. But I bet, in his head..." She squints at the boy as if she could read his mind through the glass of the window they're looking out of. "He's thinking he'd get rid of his mother, just to have that toy. He wants it so bad that he'd sacrifice the woman holding back what he wants, regardless if she's the one who brought him into the world." She turns to him, nodding with satisfaction at her own answer. "That's what I think."

"That's rather morbid." But Izaya wouldn't expect anything less from her.

It's rather strange. On the outside, she looks completely normal. Long, dark hair, dark green eyes. She wears the same current fashions that he sees all the other girls wearing. Her favorite color is yellow, she loves to eat apples. She has two parents, both with normal jobs that keep them coming home late at night.

She has a small group of friends and a boyfriend that she doesn't really like, but she goes out with him anyway for the sake of having one. Morisaki Mayonaka is a completely average teenage girl - except for what goes on inside of her head.

"Morbid, but I think that's what he's thinking." She turns to him. "Haven't you ever wanted something so bad, you wouldn't take anything else into account? You'd eliminate everything to get what you want?"

He gives her a sidelong glance. "Maybe, Mayo-chan."

Izaya is starting to get some ideas, though; he wonders how far he can take this girl down, how much more he can corrupt her mind than she's already done himself. The flavor of the moment; he supposes he might want to see the outcome of that.

He points out an old woman hobbling along the sidewalk next, an irritated looking man behind her. Quickly, though, the irritated look vanishes and his face goes blank. "What about them?"

"Them?" She tilts her head and twirls a lock of dark hair between her fingers. "I think the man is late for something. He's stuck behind that old lady in the crowd, probably thinking something like... 'I wish this old hag would hurry the hell up.'

Mayonaka pauses to take another sip before continuing. "He looked mad a second ago, but he doesn't anymore. He probably had a thought of pushing the old woman aside, thinking, 'Hope she breaks a hip, the hell are old people doing out strolling the city, anyway'. But then he realizes how horrible a thought like that is, and chastised himself for it."

Izaya smiles. "It could certainly be."

The old woman and the man escape their view, and Mayonaka sighs and rests her chin in her hand. "That's the problem with people, I think."

"Hmm?"

"They suppress their thoughts, even if it's what makes them ... them. Not enough people can be true to heart, even in thought. Isn't it sad? Even in the privacy of their own mind, they cannot be faithful to themselves."

"Absolutely heartbreaking," Izaya assures her.

He lifts up his cup for another sip. A smirk grows wide around the rim of it, and the wheels in his head begin to turn.

* * *

**A/N**: Evil Izaya... and weirdo Mayonaka. :O I hope everyone liked this chapter! Not much else to say except:

Please review! As I stated in the author's note above, the **135th** reviewer gets a gift-fic from me, about anything as long as it pertains to Durarara.

Thanks for reading and reviewing! :D ::hopeful~::


	14. isn't a very easy thing, is it? to do?

**A/N: **Wheeee, another chapter~

**Nixxy**: Thanks, I'm glad that you look forward to my updates so much!

**Lystrious**: My non-stop motivation comes from being unemployed and being bored, haha~ Yes, Izaya is certainly a conniving d-bag, but that's why we love him! I'm glad I made you want to throw up. I think. No, yeah. Yay! :D;;

**Static Lull**: I'm glad I can make their scenes feel that way! I did something right, then. :3 And yeah, sometimes I think my idea of 'cute' goes off the normal scale, but I'm happy you liked it either way!

**JiseiHakushaku**: Teary smile? Well, tears suck, but I'm glad that it moves you. :)!

**Pippa**: I'm striving to do that, especially now moreso that you want flashbacks every chapter~ Hope I don't let you down! And who knows, maybe there will be a showdown. :D...

**Sepsis**: Hmmm... I think the proper thing to say would be, "Izaya happened." Haha~

**Mako**: Yeah, she certainly doesn't get it easy! I'm not very nice to my OC. :3

**DreamWalker**: It makes me so happy when I hear that people are excited to read my stuff! You have no ideaaa. Hopefully you won't have anymore internet troubles!

Everyone, thanks a bunch for reviewing! /cries. Also, I still have that **135th review gift-fic **thing going on, so... mm, yeah. :D

Sorry for any grammatical errors, I'll comb over it later. For now I wanted to get this out, so enjoy!

* * *

_we're all trying to endure, we all want to be pure; but it_

_isn't a __very easy thing, __is it? to do?_

**chapter thirteen**

Tom turns at the sound of the door opening back up minutes later. The unconscious man is laid out by his feet in the hallway, pockets emptied - at least, the money. Tom figures the agency can't do much with the drugs that were also on his person.

He can't help but look at the two figures that emerge somewhat awkwardly, especially after what he'd seen. The girl's eyes are red and puffy, face smudged dark with the makeup; Shizuo had the normal, almost blank look on his face as the girl trailed behind him.

"I managed to get most of what he owed us. I'll..." Tom sees Shizuo's eyes glance down at Ryuuji, a hard to discern glare filled with disdain in his eyes. "I'll split off here. I'll see you later, Shizuo. And..." He looks toward the girl, but she doesn't seem like she's going to give up her name anytime soon. "I'll see you later." He repeats for lack of anything else to say, and makes his way back down the steps.

The hallway is silent as Tom leaves, and Mayonaka stares at the ground and wipes her eyes. "Shizuo..." Her voice is slow, his name escaping her lips sluggishly.

"Yeah?"

"I..." She looks back up at him. He notices her pupils are huge, because he can barely see a rim of dark green around them. He frowns.

Shizuo still waits for her next words before he says anything. He wonders what she's going to say to him, after the situation that just occurred - when dealing with Mayonaka, he never knew quite what to expect.

"I... should get back to work." Is what she says, and his frown grows deeper as he stares at her incredulously.

"Work." She nods. "Are you serious?" Her eyes seem to flicker, and she wobbles a bit. "After that-" He looks towards Ryuuji's body, resisting an urge to kick him to the other end of the hallway, "-you really think that I'd..."

He pauses. "That I'd let you go do that shit somewhere else?" Her eyes seem to get even bigger at his words. "Besides, I can tell that you're... obviously not in the right state of mind." Immediately, she looks away in what he thinks might be shame.

"This is my job. I need to make a living. You don't understand-"

"Yeah, that's what you're always telling me." Anger simmers in his gut at how she always tells him he won't get it. "You tell me that about a lot of things. How would you know I wouldn't?"

"... Even if I do tell you, I still need money to live, Shizuo."

Something inside Shizuo snaps; in a fluid motion, he shoves his hand in his pocket and brings out his wallet. He grabs a wad of money in a tight fist before grasping her hand in his and pushing the money into it. "Then shut up. Stop being stupid, and come with me." He straightens and looks down at her from behind his blue shades. "You can't tell me no now, can you?" She stares up at him blankly, and he sort of regrets his actions.

It isn't like Shizuo wants her to think he'll start treating her like what her job states she is, but he cannot conceive the thought of letting her stride out into the city, fucked up and getting picked up by a strange man. No, that thought does not sit well with him at all; so if he can squash the possibility of that happening, he will.

Without waiting for her answer, he starts down the hallway. A second later, he hears her heels clicking lightly on the floor right after him. They speed up a bit until she is at his side, and he looks at her from the corner of his eye.

"I just have one request... if that's okay." Mayonaka murmurs, eyes trained on her shoes. "Could we stop at my place? It isn't too far from here."

* * *

Mayonaka unlocks the door to her apartment, and she stares fearfully for a moment into the dark that oozes forth from her empty apartment. For a split second, she swears she can hear a voice that isn't Shizuo's drifting through her ears; (_risa-chan risa-chan i thought you_) she does not realize she's been standing there long enough for it to considered odd by her companion.

"Something wrong?" Shizuo asks (_liked me? risa-chan?_) her gruffly, and she snaps out of it.

"N-no." After she curses at herself for stuttering, she persuades her brain it's just the drugs playing tricks on her mind. Mayonaka walks in, immediately going for the light switch and flips it up.

"I'll only be a few minutes," She tells him, and he nods.

She heads into her bathroom, but leaves the door open; even if she tells herself it's just the E, a childish, scared part of her does not want to take a chance. She reminds herself of a kid, one who tells themselves that the monster under the bed does not exist - yet they'd never leave their feet hanging over the edge. She brushes her teeth and combs her hair to the best of her ability, then goes into her bedroom and into her closet.

At the bottom lies the bloody dress; it reminds her of everything she wishes to forget, specially how Shizuo had seen her in it. She wonders dimly what he must think she did, or got into. Maybe, she thinks, maybe she should tell him. Maybe Shizuo _would _understand.

But maybe he won't; Heiwajima Shizuo, to her, seems like a decent person. Decent people don't stay around murderers, even if they're not aware of the act until they've already committed it. She tears her eyes away and grabs a different dress off of a hanger and a warmer coat before quickly getting changed and going back out. She steps out into the living room, adjusting the rosary so it lies against the outside of her clothes.

"Ready?" Shizuo nods at her question and gets up, following her as she leads them out and locks the door behind them.

The walk to his place is silent until about halfway, when Mayonaka's curiosity gets the best of her.

"Shizuo?" He grunts in response, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. The smell wafts into her nose and makes her want one too, so she sparks one up as well before continuing. "Earlier, how did you... You're very strong."

She glances up at him when he does not respond for a moment. "It's okay." She reverts her gaze back to the sidewalk. "You don't have to tell me anything." Maybe it's just the drugs, but she feels more empathetic; or maybe it's just her. After all, she cannot expect him to explain things to her if she won't, either.

A puff of smoke escapes his mouth before words do. "I know. That I'm strong, I know." Shizuo affirms, then pauses before he says anything else. "I don't know why. It's been like that for... a long time."

"I see." Mayonaka looks at him again, taking another drag, "It seems like it could be convenient."

"It's not." It comes out quickly and more rough than he wanted to - both rough and sharp around the edges at the same time. "It makes things a lot harder for me. What you saw back there..." He hesitates, unsure if he really wants to tell her what he can really do. "Well, it wasn't half of it."

She can sense something in his voice, something sad and resigned. It's barely distinguishable, but Mayonaka knows those feelings well. Before her brain can catch up with her body, her hand swings to his and grasps it. Mayonaka does not hope to try to comfort him verbally, since she doesn't have a way with words - but she hopes the slight squeeze she gives his hand does the trick.

A small smile comes over her face when his hand closes around hers in response, and the rest of the walk is quiet.

* * *

Hours later, Shizuo is roused out of his sleep by the tossing and turning of the girl lying next to him. He blinks to adjust his eyes to the dark that still permeates his room, trying to focus on her.

"... Mayonaka?" The tossing slows down, but only by a little bit. Now he can see her eyes moving rapidly beneath her lids, hair looking slightly damp from the sweat that beads at her forehead. Her lips are in a frown, and then they open to mutter something he can't hear. "Mayonaka." He sits up and places a hand on her shoulder, and her eyes shoot open.

"You alright?" Shizuo asks her, but she does not reply. She stares at the ceiling, lips still open in a small 'o'; she's so still that he's almost tempted to make sure she's still breathing. "Hey," He shakes her a little, eyebrows furrowing.

Suddenly, without batting an eye, she lurches up until she's not lying down anymore, legs swinging out of the bed in a stiff, robotic motion. Then she's standing next to the bed, facing the wall. "Mayonaka!" He almost shouts, but it seems to get her attention.

"Shi-zu-o..." Like before, in the hallway of the club, her voice sounds sluggish. "Shizuo..." She repeats, but it's more clear this time. "I've wanted to talk to you for a while, Shizuo." She smiles at him as he stares at her, confusion clouding his mind.

"The hell are you talking about?" Something seems off. He can't put his finger on it - but maybe the way in which he can sense fear, he can sense this small unnameable change.

"A long time," She says again, lips still curled upwards. "But it will have to wait. There's something that I need to check on."

With that, she begins to walk towards his bedroom door, steps that are first stiff but eventually loosen. He blinks again before getting out of bed and grabbing her shoulder. Something was definitely up. "Where are you going?" She shrugs off his shoulder without any type of pause and continues to walk out of his room, and he follows her. "Check on what?"

She ignores him and heads for his front door, and this time he does not let her shake him off. "The hell do you think you're doing, Mayonaka? You're not even dressed-" Mayonaka is wearing naught but his white button up shirt and her rosary, and it swings when he spins her around to face him.

"Your neighbor, Shizuo." She tells him as if he's a child, and he narrows his eyes. "She's very rude, you know. She's always saying bad things about you." A dark look comes across her face. "I didn't like it, Shizuo. But now..." The smile comes back, "I suppose I can say that she _was_ rude." Mayonaka giggles a little bit at her words.

"What do you mean, _was_?" Shizuo finds himself growing annoyed quickly at how he's asking her so many questions, but she gives him some semblance of an answer.

"I took care of her. She won't say anything bad. Not anymore." She raises a hand towards his cheek, and he almost flinches from how cold her hand feels. "Aren't you glad?"

_Took care of her_, she says, and even in her soft voice, it sounds slightly sinister. A sense of foreboding washes over him like the cold of her hand, and he swallows. "You..." He hopes that her words don't mean what he thinks they mean. From what he'd Celty told him before, to what he had found in her pocket that night - he wouldn't be entirely too surprised. "What did you do?" He can't help but growl and brushes her hand off.

"You're not happy, Shizuo?" She cradles her hand to her body as if it's been smacked away. "I did it so you would be happy." Mayonaka looks down, and her ink black hair obscures her eyes. "Why? Why aren't you happy?"

"Did you..." He struggles for a moment on how to make his next words come out. "Did you hurt my neighbor, Mayonaka?"

"It was the only way. She was a bad person!" She cries, and her hands drop to her side. "I always thought people should be true to themselves, Shizuo. To their hearts. And she did, your neighbor did-" Her words start to come out faster and faster, and he can only stare at her and try to figure out what's going on in her brain right now. "But I didn't like it like I thought I did, I didn't like it at all-" Her head comes back up, and her eyes are so wide that he can see the whites of her eyes circling around her pupils.

"I didn't like it when she said such things, so maybe I was wrong. Was I wrong? I was wrong, and you're not happy. Why can't you be _happy_, Shizuo? Why can't you be _glad_? Shizuo, why can't-"

"Mayonaka!" He shouts; now there is no question in his mind that she's done something wrong, something bad - and it itches at him. He can't stand the way she babbles at him, eyes as wide as dinner plates. It isn't her, he tells himself, and he could be wrong - but he doesn't think it is. This is not the same girl. This isn't Mayonaka, the quiet girl who had held his hand earlier. It isn't her, this almost deranged persona that has emerged in the middle of the night like a ghost of some sort.

He grabs the collar of his shirt that she's wearing, eyes boring into hers. "Stop! What's wrong with you-"

Then he can hear her choking, and her hands come up to try to take his off of her. He doesn't realize until then that he has her dangling in the air, the collar tight against her neck, he'd been so wrapped up in making her stop whatever she was doing.

"Shi-zu-o-" Her voice goes back to the drawl from earlier, choppy from her lack of air and slow like molasses. And her eyes, he thinks, paralyzed, as he looks at them level to his; they're not so wild looking anymore. They're not wide like a frenzied animal's like they just were - instead, he can see bewilderment reflected in her half-lidded eyes.

He lets go of her like he's been burned; even though she acts the way she does right now, even though it had irritated him to the point where she was choking, he was choking _her_, he still does not want to hurt her. It's not like he had ever planned on doing that. She slumps down to the floor once he lets go, and her eyes peer up at him, confused, as her head leans against the front door.

"I'm sorry, I-" He kneels down, swallowing, "Mayonaka-"

"It happened again, didn't it?" She cuts him off with a hushed whisper, and her hand clutches the rosary so tightly he can see her knuckles turn white. Mayonaka looks up at him, eyes roving over his body hastily. "Did I hurt you?"

It's sort of funny, that _she's _asking _him _if she hurt him - she's the one with a sore neck, after all, courtesy of himself. She stands a bit shakily and grabs his arms, eyes searching his with urgency. "Did I? I..." She lets go of him and bites her lip. "I should go. I shouldn't have- I should've never gotten you mixed up with this." Mayonaka turns to go back into his bedroom to grab his things, and he stops her with a hand on his shoulder.

"Mixed up with what?" He turns her around to face him.

"Me... with me." Her face scrunches up like it did before, eyes squinting shut as wetness leaks out of the corners. Her hands go up to cover her face, and her shoulders heave violently before she stills them. He can still see her trembling, shaking with her efforts to restrain herself.

Shizuo pulls her to him, his chin on top of her dark hair. Her hands fall from her face to rest listlessly at her side. "I'm fine. I don't think you could hurt me if you tried." He tries to assure her, but he can feel her tears sliding down his bare chest. "And I think-" He pauses. "You need to tell me what the hell's going on."

He expects her to tug her body away from him and run away, run and avoid the question like she's always done. But instead, all he feels is her head nod against his chest and her arms wrap around him.

"... okay."

* * *

"Who the hell is that, Mayonaka?"

The teenage boy standing in front of her angrily gestures to Izaya, who merely cocks his head and smirks. He always liked displays like this; though he hadn't been expecting one while they were doing their typical people watching session. Either way, he doesn't mind or really care, but he continues to watch on with amusement.

"He's my friend. What, I'm not allowed to have friends anymore?" Mayonaka spits out at the boy, who by now Izaya assumes must be the boyfriend she doesn't really care about. "Besides, you're one to talk." Her arm raises and she points at a girl standing a fair distance away. "Who's that?"

Izaya glances over to where she's pointing - sure enough, the girl she points to is openly staring at them, hands twisting into knots nervously. She looks like she's dressed up for a date of some sort, with a nice dress and cardigan on. He looks back to Mayonaka and grins a little more. He had to admit - she certainly was rather observant.

"What are you talking about?" Boyfriend shouts at her, amassing passerby's glances, along with the other people in the park. "I'm by myself!"

"Like hell you are," Mayonaka tells him, voice returning to the normal level. "She keeps looking over her, and she's so nervous that she looks like she's going to fall over."

Boyfriend stares at her, brows furrowed. He looks again to Izaya, standing behind her; Izaya just smiles at him and gives a little, irritating wave. It seems to finalize whatever Boyfriend's angrily mulling over, because he brings his eyes back to Mayonaka and crosses his arms.

"Well, you know what? Maybe I _do _know her. Maybe I _am _doing something with her." Mayonaka's eyes narrow dangerously at his words. "But you know what else?" He waits for a reply, a scathing _what _- but he receives nothing in return, so he uncrosses his arms and leans in close to her.

"At least _she _has the decency to be nervous. At least _she_ seems to care what the fuck's going on." His lip curls - rather unattractively, Izaya thinks - and he goes on. "And that's more than I can say for you!"

Boyfriend straightens and leers down at her, but she doesn't cower or seem frightened. "So go fuck yourself, Mayonaka. Go fuck him-" He points to the informant, "-while you're at it, because I'm done with you."

With that, he stalks back off; just as Mayonaka had accused, he joins the girl. The girl throws them nervous glances over her back, but they quickly disappear into the throng of people. Mayonaka's quiet, but he can see her fists clenching tightly at her sides.

"You know how to pick them, don't you, Mayo-chan?" Izaya jokes, and she laughs bitterly. He wonders if she's upset about the whole break-up; but honestly, he thinks she's only upset over having been humiliated in public.

"I think I can help you do something about that," He tells her, a hand on her shoulder as he leans down to see her face. Mayonaka nods, eyes still staring at the spot where they disappeared. Her lips are set in a tight, thin line, and her green eyes are narrowed dangerously. Izaya smiles.

And even though this was not the first time they met, even though this wasn't that building where he had first seen her-

Perhaps this is where he can say it truly began.

* * *

**A/N**: Uh, I hope everyone liked it. :D I'm not sure how I feel about the chapter, but usually even though I feel like that people don't mind... so there you have it.

Also, just wondering - how long does everyone want to see this story go on? Long? Hurry the hell up? Haha, I don't know... but I want to! So tell me please so I can have some insight! I wonder sometimes if I'm moving too fast or too slow in the story, so please let me know~

Reviews make me happy, so go review, you pretty people. :)


	15. working for a paycheck

**A/N**: Ah, not much to say I guess... except for this chapter is kind of a happy(?) chapter? Can this story now be considered OOC? I wonder.

Not too sure how I feel about it, but, like, I always feel that way about everything I write. So you should probably just disregard me. :D; Thanks for all the reviews, as well!

Alsoooo, to remind you folks, 135th reviewer gets a gift-fic from me~ I'm trying to change it up a bit by not restraining it to Durarara, so if you win, we'll discuss. Or something like that! Um, please enjoy...?

* * *

_i don't know where i've been, __but i'd rather_

_be working for a paycheck than_

_waiting to win the lottery_

**chapter fourteen**

Mayonaka rolls onto her side in Shizuo's bed, facing the wall. She's trying to think of what to tell him, trying so hard – racking her brain for an explanation that she cannot even come up with for herself.

"Three months ago," she murmurs into her pillow, "I woke up."

She figures the best thing to do is to start from the beginning. It will take longer than a simple answer of why she does what she does - but again, she's unsure of that herself. So she decides she can only tell him her story, a bleak one. So far, it's a story without an ending; she can't picture the end looking any brighter than any other parts of this tale, but she starts speaking anyway.

So Mayonaka tells him that she woke up, opening her eyes for what felt like the very first time. Says that she can't remember shit - didn't even know what she looked like until she looked in the mirror. And how when she did, she found herself staring into the eyes of a stranger. Tells him it's a horrible feeling.

Shizuo is silent, though she can hear him turn his head on the pillow. She continues on how she wasn't even sure if the apartment she woke up in was hers, until she asked the landlord. He had given her a yes to that question, but anything else she asked him - such as a job, knowing of anyone who stopped by - went unanswered. Mayonaka says that she scoured her apartment for anything that would point her in some kind of direction.

"What did you find?" Shizuo asks her, voice just as quiet as hers.

Nothing, she says, nothing at all. She chuckles, and bitterness seeps into her voice. Nothing; no numbers, no address books. She tells him how she found out she was in Ikebukuro, and how even that knowledge did nothing for her.

Mayonaka says that she was at a loss of what kind of action to take. "What would the real me do?" she would ask herself, but she could never quite figure that out. She still can't. Barely any money, no job; at least, one that she knew of. Her job found her, she says. It found her when she was approached by some man and left with a wad of money. She leaves out most of the details.

She does not really want to elaborate, anyway. She's sure Shizuo already knows the gist of what she's saying. Rambling a bit, she tells him how it was so easy in the beginning. That's how something like that feels, she guesses aloud, when you don't have a thing to lose. Maybe the person she had been had things to clutch to her; maybe she didn't.

Yamamoto is brought up in this verbal timeline of her so called life, and she hesitates before divulging more details. After all, Shizuo is still next to her, surprisingly. If he's willing to listen, then she shouldn't let him down. She tells him how he was the worst; maybe he wouldn't be the worst if he hadn't been hidden behind the polite, courteous mask that seeks judgement for a living.

Besides her, Shizuo's breathing deepens - she turns over to face him to see if he's fallen asleep, but he hasn't. He's still awake, jaw set in such a way that she's sure he's probably gritting his teeth. His eyes are staring straight up to the ceiling, and though she doesn't turn back over, she moves her own gaze to the mattress.

Mayonaka says to him that things continued like that for a while. That she just sort of drifted along, in a lazy river of work, money, getting fucked up; and then she went to the bar one night. Mayonaka smiles a little, and tells him that was the night she saw him. It fades a bit when she tells him about everything after that night; meeting up with Yamamoto, what she knows she has done but cannot remember doing.

About hallucinations that seemed too real to be a figment of her imagination; why she wanted to get in touch with Orihara, the deal with him, the van - everything far and in between, she tells him. Whispering, she adds how she wants to badly to remember the things she's forgotten. The things that happened before this long stretch of three months, when she was probably just a normal girl.

And that, maybe if she can remember, she can return to that state. Yes, she tells him every single thing; in a way, she almost hopes after this he thinks she's a nutjob and kicks her out. Because maybe then, she wouldn't hold on to some sliver of hope; this strange, undeserved faith that everything will be okay.

Shizuo's presence alone gives her that, to some degree. Mayonaka's probably better off not filling her head and heart with that reassuring feeling, and at his long silence, she thinks she might not have to. He lets out a sigh and reaches over to the bedside table to grab a pack of cigarettes, sliding one out and lighting it.

Her eyes are busy staring at the dull orange of the cherry that glows brighter when he puffs on it, and she decides to just ask him. "Do you believe me?" A small pause of silence seems to linger on for hours. Mayonaka tears her eyes away from that dull glow and to the wall.

Shizuo's hand wraps around her arm as she swings a leg out of the bed. "You do understand that it's kind of hard to, right?"

"It's hard for me to believe it." She agrees, tone distant.

"... I do. Believe it, I mean."

Mayonaka looks at him. _Really _looks at him; at his eyes, and hair, and the grim line he's set his mouth into. "You do? You aren't ... scared?" The last part is whispered, but the hushed words sound as loud as they would coming from a speaker in the dark silence that accompanies the early morning hours. She doesn't move to take his hand off of her, but she doesn't lay back down, either.

"No," he answers. "As for everything else you've told me ... stranger things have happened." Like headless women, monstrous strength, and possessed crowds; he refrains from telling her, though, that what she's told him is nearly up there.

Finally, she slides back into the bed. Unabashed, she moves closer to him until she's curled up into his chest, her arm looping around his side to press into his back. She hears the light _tink _as he puts out his cigarette in the glass ashtray on the small table, and then she's warm from the embrace he returns. "I think this is what it must feel like to be a monster."

Shizuo thinks that her voice is heartbreakingly devoid of emotion when she says that; while his mind is still trying to wrap around everything that she's told him, he just holds her tighter and tells her, "It's not you. That wasn't you." He says this honestly, because the thing he saw earlier - it couldn't possibly be her.

The Mayonaka he knows is quiet and pensive, guarded. She is someone who did not even tell him her real name until a couple days ago. But the person she had been not too long ago does not even fit the image he holds of her in his head.

She mumbles something into his chest, something he thinks sounds like _thank you. _She tucks herself into him even more until his chin is resting on top of her pitch black hair that melts into the darkness around them, and he closes his eyes.

"What am I going to do, Shizuo?" Her lashes flutter softly against his skin, and his eyes slide open again. "Someone will find out what I've done. Police. And then..."

"Go to sleep," Shizuo tells her, and she grows quiet.

* * *

The next morning, Mayonaka is still asleep when he wakes up. He lets her sleep and goes to ready himself for the day, and after that, he finds his feet walking out the door. Shizuo does not go far; he's in front of his neighbor's door, the one that gave him dirty looks when he saw her by chance.

He's not sure if he really wants to find out whether Mayonaka did what she says she has done, but he cannot let it lie. So he knocks loudly on the door, waits another few moments before knocking again; no answer, both times. Somewhat tentatively, he jiggles the door knob. It turns easily underneath his hand, and he swallows before pushing it open.

"Hello?"

There is no answer. He steps inside, preparing himself for whatever lies in there -

- except there isn't anything.

There is no corpse, no blood; instead, the entire room is empty. No furniture, no anything. Softly shutting the door behind him, he ventures in further. The bedroom, bathroom, hallway closet, they're all empty. Maybe Mayonaka was just imagining things; he doesn't exactly want to say _hallucinate_, but there certainly wasn't any sign of something terrible inside the apartment. He takes one last sweeping glance before going back into his own place.

When he goes into the bedroom, Mayonaka is sitting up on his bed. A cigarette dwindles away between her fingers, and she takes a lazy drag as she acknowledges his presence.

"Morning," She says, ashing the cigarette.

"Hey. Sleep alright?" _Sleep alright_ other than the disturbance in the middle of the night? He wants to say, but refrains.

"... It was fine."

They're both silent for a moment, until Shizuo brings up the neighbor. "I went next door," He says casually, "There wasn't anything. No one's even living there."

Her brows knit, and she stares at her cigarette that is quickly becoming just the filter. "But... nothing? At all?"

"Nothing," Shizuo confirms, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He hopes that she'll feel a little relieved at his words. It seems to work, because her posture noticeably loosens up and she sighs, putting out the cigarette.

"Mayonaka?"

"Yes?" She glances over her shoulder at him as she gets out of bed.

"Don't rely on that bastard to help you." He's talking about Izaya, of course. "He doesn't help anyone."

Shizuo faces the other way when she starts unbuttoning the white dress shirt she's used as makeshift pajamas, and the only noise in the room is from the rustling of the fabric.

"But what do I do, then? I..."

"Do you really need to know about your past? You can't expect it to appear all of a sudden." Shizuo ventures. "Shouldn't you just want new memories? You're here now. You can do that."

"New memories?" Mayonaka finds herself actually considering his words. Because maybe he's right; maybe she should stop pining after things she's lost. Maybe she should make something to regain.

"Yeah." He rubs his head awkwardly. "I'd... help you. If you wanted that." She doesn't say anything. "I can't help you figure out the past, but maybe I can help you make some sense of the future." He feels faint heat rise to his cheeks at his own words.

"The future," She mimics again. "I think that... maybe, I could do that." In a quieter tone, she asks, "You would help me with that?"

He turns and looks at her; she's standing there, already in her own clothes. There's an unidentifiable look in her eyes, and her hand hangs loosely around her rosary. Shizuo just nods.

"Future," She says in an almost-whisper. "...Okay."

Mayonaka smiles at him - and perhaps Shizuo isn't an expert on emotions other than anger, but it seems real enough to him. It makes him feel a little warm. He stands up from his sitting position, rolling his head around to crack his neck.

"When are you supposed to make the future?" She sort of sounds like a lost child, and he ruffles her hair as she moves closer to him.

"It's the future. Anytime you want."

"Anytime?" She questions, and receives a nod. "How about..." Her head goes down, and her eyes gaze off to the side at nothing at all. "Today? Maybe. But, you probably have to work. So, never mind. I should probably go now," She says all of this in a rushed, almost babbling way.

She's probably embarrassed, Shizuo thinks. It's the first time he thinks he's ever seen her like that, and he stares at her for a good moment before shrugging. He doesn't have to go to work until tomorrow, anyway.

"Today, then."

* * *

After a stop at her apartment to get changed, they find themselves blending in the sprawl of the city. Of course, Shizuo's still wearing his trademark bartender's suit - but Mayonaka, for once, is dressed in more casual clothes.

In jeans, a big sweater, and a scarf, he almost didn't recognize her when she stepped out. He can't say he doesn't like it, though; in a way, he feels like maybe she's comfortable enough around him to take down her normal image of skimpy clothes and a blank face. They stop at a small cafe where Shizuo orders a coffee with way too much sugar in it, and he buys her a hot chocolate.

She takes a small sip, only to scrunch her face up. "Ah, hot," Mayonaka lisps, giving the cup an accusing look. Shizuo wonders why he's so surprised that she can actually seem so... human? Not like what he's seen of her before? He doesn't know, but he likes that, too.

Her face is almost lit up as they continue walking around; they watch street performers that are braving the cold weather to do their tricks. Instead of watching the performers, Shizuo catches himself watching her, instead. She looks a little awed, taking sips of her drink while her eyes are still glued to the performers.

"Did you see that?" Mayonaka tugs on his sleeve, reverting his attention to the performer. "Wasn't that amazing?" It's nothing too special, just someone juggling; still, it seems to be enough to entertain her. Looking back at her, she's staring up at him expectantly for his answer.

"Yeah," He lies, "I saw. Crazy, huh?"

Mayonaka smiles that real smile again, before digging out some money and tossing it into a hat the man has lying in front of him. They set off on their way again, when she starts talking.

"Shizuo?" He gives her a grunt to let her know he's listening, and she goes on, "Do you have family?"

For some reason, he never really expected her to ask about something like that, but he answers her. "Parents. A brother."

"What are they like?"

"Parents are normal. My brother is... he's quiet, I guess. He probably understands me best out of anyone." He wonders if he can tell her about Kasuka, but he gets the impression she wouldn't go nuts over him like most girls.

"It sounds nice," Mayonaka tells him. "He sounds like a good brother."

She sounds a little forlorn at the talk of family; he wonders what it would be like if he were to forget Kasuka or his parents, but it isn't exactly something he wants to linger on.

"Don't worry about it, alright?" Shizuo tells her, "Just worry about today."

A short pause and her small hum of agreement later, he feels her slide her fingers halfway into his hand. No words are exchanged as he acquiesces and holds on, but he sees Mayonaka's face duck a little further into her scarf.

Few people give them - or rather, him - lingering looks at the sight of Heiwajima Shizuo holding hands with some girl; but she either doesn't seem to notice or doesn't care, so he does the exact same.

A short while later, they're sitting in the dark of a movie theater. It's some dramatic action movie; she didn't want to watch a horror movie (_ understandably, he supposes _), and wasn't interested in any sweeping romance stories. Explosions resound through the expanse of the large room, but Shizuo's not entirely paying attention to what's playing on the screen.

Like before, he finds himself looking at her; this whole day, so far, seems surreal to him. It's just strange to him to be doing such normal things, maybe. They didn't exactly meet under normal circumstances, and everything with her up to this day has been anything but; but if things were like this from now on, he doesn't think he would mind so much.

Lost in the same, repetitive thoughts, he's brought out of it when the lights come back on. He turns to her as she wraps her scarf back around her neck, "Did you like it?"

She nods. "It was interesting. This is the first time I've been to the movies, I guess." Another smile; "I liked it."

"Good." Yes, this was definitely strange - such normal words passed between people that simply aren't.

* * *

To be honest, the day they had was uneventful. Mayonaka doesn't mind at all, though; it was a calm day, one that she plans on ending the same way. She doesn't want to go to work tonight. In fact, she isn't sure she ever wants to, but she'll worry about that when this nice day has turned into tomorrow.

They're standing in front of her door, Mayonaka feeling uncharacteristically ( _or maybe not, she wouldn't know; it kind of sort of doesn't matter _too_ much right now, anymore_ ) shy in front of her tall companion.

"Thanks, Shizuo. For... everything." She tells him a bit awkwardly. "Today was a good day," is mumbled afterwards.

"No problem." A hand goes up to rub the back of his neck. "I'm... glad you had fun."

"Can we do something like this again?" Mayonaka inquires, feeling a little embarrassed at how hopeful she thinks she must sound.

"Yeah." His hand is brought back down to his side, then reaches out. "Let me see your phone."

She gives him a curious look before digging it out of her bag and handing it over, and he types something in before placing it back in her hands. "My number's in there. If you need me..." He trails off, maybe uncertain of continuing the sentence.

"I will," She assures him quietly. Stepping closer, she hugs him. "Thanks." Shizuo's warm, and she doesn't really want to let go, but she does anyway. Questioning herself on why her face suddenly feels a bit hot, she hastily turns around and unlocks her door.

"Goodnight, Shizuo." She tells him, giving him one last glance and a small wave before stepping inside and closing the door.

The lights are on inside. She's pretty sure she had turned them off when she left earlier, but she doubts herself. Maybe she had left them on as a precaution so she didn't come home to dark rooms and the feeling of fear, so she brushes it off and throws her scarf and coat on the rack. She slips off her shoes, smiling a bit to herself as she makes her way into the living room.

The smile falls, however, when she sees the cause of her turned on lights; he's lounging on her couch, twiddling away on his cell phone until he looks up at her.

"Hey, Mayo-chan!"

She's caught off guard at first, but recovers as quickly as she can. "... Why are you in here?"

And like that, the stoniness she's warded off and dropped all day has returned and been cemented in the presence of Orihara Izaya and his infuriating grin.

* * *

**A/N**: And... yeah. Hope I kept everyone IC~ (I'm kinda worried about Mayonaka, I wonder if people will get mad at her little bit of personality change? Ehhh, I don't know!) Please let me know if I haven't! And was anyone expecting Izaya to be there chillin' in the end? Just curious. :D

but, yeah, I _think _this was a pretty happy chapter... for this story, at least. Probably won't be that way for much longer, though.

Anyways! Please review~ I'd really, really appreciate it! _And_ there's incentive!... if getting a story by me is incentive at all. I don't know, but please tell me what you guys think/how I'm doing anyway!


	16. twist the knife

**A/N**: Thanks for all the reviews~

**Nixxy**: Whew, glad to hear it~ And the happiness probably won't last too long. /evil

**cookie2178**: Thanks! I enjoy writing it, even though sometimes I feel like I'm crossing over the line of cheesiness and OOCness.

**Sepsis**: I think you may be psychic. :D; And of course he will~

**Keiko**: Thanks very much!

**DreamWalker18**: No need to apologize! And the drama definitely returns, haha. Thanks for reviewing :)!

**Pippa**: Oh no :X! I hope you're okay and have successfully left... I'm glad to hear that you can still bear with this story, though, that makes me happy!

**keitama**: I totally ate up your review. And after all the good things you've said, I hope I don't let you down!

Not much else to say, I guess, except I hope I did okay with this chapter. I'll fix any grammatical errors when I'm not feeling so lazy. Please enjoy~

* * *

_these burdens i've handsomely gained_

_you took what's young from me_

_twist the knife_

**chapter sixteen**

"Eh? What's this? You're not happy to see me, Mayo-chan?" He sighs dramatically before letting his head drop on the arm of the couch, arm over his eyes. "You wound me!"

"Shut up. And get out, too." She's feeling a vague sense of deja vu from this whole conversation.

"Have a fun date with Shizu-chan?" Izaya completely ignores her.

"I said get out, didn't I?" Mayonaka glares at him. "I know you can hear, you bastard."

"To be honest, I'm surprised he managed to go that long without mauling something like a wild bear."

"... get out of here, you asshole."

"Tsk, tsk. Should you really be talking like that to someone you have a deal with? Really..."

Mayonaka pauses for a moment. The deal. It wasn't like she had forgotten about it, but -

Her mouth opens of its own accord, "Oh, that? It's off."

- but the more and more she thought about it, perhaps it was more trouble than it was worth. She at least knows that Izaya certainly is. She takes a little bit of joy in the way his smirk drops for a millisecond, but it's back in place too quickly for her to truly relish the feeling.

"So you want to forget about everything you want to know about? Well, you've already done that once before, or else you wouldn't have come to me in the first place."

His words grate on her nerves, and her fists clench. In a way, she doesn't want to give up on her past; but when she really, actually thinks about it... does it mean that much? But then, hadn't she just wanted to know about her past so badly that it used to hurt? She knows she did - but right now, when it's the farthest thing from her mind, she thinks she might know why she had craved it so bad.

The past few months, she had been devastatingly alone. She barely talked to people unless they were clients; it near drove her crazy, though she doesn't realize this until now. Maybe she had wanted to know about her past so bad because then she could _find _people to talk to. People she used to laugh with, people she used to cry with; people she was normal with. Human.

"I don't care anymore." She says evenly, and her eyes do not leave Izaya's once as he gets up from his position on her couch.

Because with the way she's feeling right now, it's _definitely _too much trouble to find those people from the past. It is this very second, in this very thought process, that she absently realizes she has at least found one. One person that she at least is starting to be normal with; it feels different, like nothing else she's ever felt. It doesn't hurt like the gap in her brain does, and she thinks that she wouldn't give that up for the friends and family that she's forgotten.

No. Mayonaka probably wouldn't give up knowing Shizuo for the world; as far as she's concerned, in a strange, strange way - he has brought it to her.

"Besides," she adds and walks to the door, "You said my parents were dead. And I don't care to know any friends I might've had, either. Not anymore."

"You're being quite stupid, right now, Mayo-chan."

To her own surprise, she finds laughter bubbling up in her throat. "No, no. I _was_ being stupid. Silly, dumb... I was a moron."

Izaya is silent; his dried blood colored eyes are merely gazing at her with that calculating look gleaming inside.

"But not anymore. Not really." Her hand finds the doorknob, and she opens it. "Now get out."

"And if I don't want to? What will you do, Mayo-chan?"

"... get out."

"It's cold out. I don't want to."

"Didn't you hear anything I just said?" Mayonaka raises her voice, and it comes out as more of a snarl than anything else. "Get the hell out of here, Orihara. Now."

The way Izaya digs into his ear with his pinky and says, "Hm? What'd you say, Mayo-chan?" brings her irritation to a boil, into anger.

"_Orihara_! Get. _Out_!" It's mixed between a growl and a yell, and she shakes with fury as Izaya steps closer. Out of pure frustration, she grabs one of the lamps on her small hallway table and throws it at him. Of course, it misses, instead landing in the kitchen and breaking.

"Mayo-chan, really. You've taken up some bad manners from Shizu-chan, haven't you?" He sighs in such a way that it makes her feel like he's watching some sort of tragedy unfold. "How very sad." Izaya walks closer to her until their noses are almost touching. "Truly, it depresses me."

Mayonaka digs her phone out. She doesn't want to bother him - but obviously the informant wasn't planning on leaving. She clicks around, trying to ignore Izaya's banter, and she finds his name and hits send. It starts ringing.

"Even worse, is that I get the feeling you're starting to actually _like _Shizu-chan. He's a total barbarian. Shizu-chan is not even human." He tilts his head. "Ah, I'm guessing you're calling him right now, aren't you? That's kind of predictable, Mayo-chan."

The phone keeps ringing.

"Then again, maybe you two would make a great pair. You're a monster, just like him. A murderer that will snap on anyone, right? Just like Shizu-chan. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if he snapped on you one day. Really, you two are pathetic-"

Her arm lowers from holding the phone up as his words cross the line, just as there's a dim _"Yeah?"_ emitting from it.

There are a few things that she remembers in these last few moments.

The phone slipping from her hand and landing on the carpet.

An angry scream clawing its way up her throat, leaving it feeling rough and jagged the moment it escapes her lips.

Lunging at the informant in such a manner, that, when she looks back on it, she did not move on feet or legs that were her own.

The way his eyes widen just a fraction, before he reaches into his pocket.

She remembers everything going black.

* * *

_"It'll be really easy, Mayo-chan."_

_"Whatever," She says, daintily flipping her hair over her shoulder. "As long as I don't get my hands dirty."_

_Suddenly, her phone beeps. "He's here," She announces as she checks her phone. "Go somewhere."_

_"Ah, I see how it is. Once you don't need me anymore, it's off to the garbage with me!" Izaya sighs, but begins to walk to a spot on the roof where he won't be seen - where he can watch this show unfold from the shadows._

_"Shut it."_

_A minute or two later after she's received the text, the door opens. Out comes her ex-boyfriend, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. "What's this about, Mayonaka?" He asks, treading up to her. He looks around. "And why the hell did you choose such a weird place to meet?"_

_They're on the roof of that abandoned building; the same one where the girl first met the informant. For this sort of one sided collaboration, it is only fitting._

_"Does it really matter?" She sighs and puts on a sorry looking face. "I'm sorry about the other day. I wasn't doing anything wrong, I swear..."_

_"It's not that easy, Mayonaka."_

_But you make it so very easy yourself, don't you? She can't help but think when he goes up the edge of the roof, leaning on the railing and looking down._

_"I know it's not, but... maybe we could make it work. Couldn't we?"_

_"I don't know," He mutters, still looking out at the bright city lights. "I've been... seeing that girl."_

_"I don't care. I just want you back!" Mayonaka emits a pathetic little wail, much to her inner disgust; the only response she gets is him putting his head between his hands. His back is still to her, and she practically waltzes right up to him._

_"Listen, Mayonaka. I humored you by coming out here, but I really like her. She's nice."_

_"A lot nicer than I am, right?" She spits out, narrowing her eyes. When she's this close to giving him a lesson, she doesn't care if the facade drops._

_"Mayonaka-" He turns around, ready to say something else - but she'll never know what it is, because she grabs the front of his shirt and effectively puts him into silence as he stares down at her._

_"You were right," She whispers, smiling. "It turns out that... well, I'm not that nice at all." And with all her strength, she pushes him off the side of the building._

_With the way he goes down headfirst from toppling over the railing, there's simply no chance of him being able to grab anything. Mayonaka peers over the side of the building. She recalls the shocked look in his eye a split second before he hurtles over the edge, and smiles when she hears the plummet come to an end._

_Scrunching up her face as she looks at the gore, she says, "Just as disgusting as he was alive. Figures."_

_Izaya pops up somewhere on her right, laughing and applauding. "What a good actress you were! Even though it was only for a short amount of time. You know, I wasn't sure if you would actually do it, Mayo-chan. Some people are all talk!"_

_"Like you?" She rolls her eyes._

_"Mayo-chan~!" He whines, clutching onto her arm. "You hurt me so-"_

_"Yeah, yeah. I'm just kidding, jeez. Now let's get out of here."_

_Izaya follows her down the steps, grinning all the while._

* * *

Shizuo exits the convenience store with a bag in hand just as his phone rings. Shifting his bag to the other hand, he grabs it out of his pocket and glances at the screen. Unknown number.

"Yeah?"

There is silence for a few sparse moments before a loud scream penetrates his ears, leaving it ringing. It sounds wild and animalistic - but undeniably female. It's long and does not end until Shizuo is already running back to Mayonaka's. It must be her - he doesn't know anyone else, much less a young woman, who has his number.

He still has the phone up to his ear, yelling into it as he runs down the street. Of course, no one replies to him. Shizuo hears a familiar laugh - one that's cruel and can only mean something bad is unfolding. Izaya. He hurries his pace up a little more, dropping the bag. He hears her yell again, and it almost reminds him of his own battle roars, and then another laugh. Next comes something that sounds like a wail of pain, and he swears that if he gets there and -

_"So ungrateful. Especially after everything I've done for you... I'm really disappointed!"_

It's faint, but it's definitely Izaya. He doesn't even care that he's crossing the street with traffic still driving by.

_"The hell are you talking about..."_

His pace almost slows down when he hears the next words, but he keeps running. He has to get there soon. There was simply no other option.

* * *

Mayonaka does not know how much time has passed since she's blacked out, but it couldn't have been that long. Izaya is still in her living room, standing before her with that knife - and her cheek still stings like a bitch, along with her shoulder and forearm. She can feel blood dripping out without pause down her face, and she feebly wipes it away. Even the motion hurts her more.

He doesn't look ruffled at all, sitting as casually on her couch as he was before. She gathers herself up from the floor she's somehow ended up sprawled on and clutches at her head. It's pounding terribly, and she winces as she tries to stand. Her head feels like it weighs a million pounds, and it prevents her from getting up.

"So ungrateful. Especially after everything I've done for you... I'm really disappointed!"

"The hell are you talking about..." She asks, and even though she's still angry, it comes out sounding weary and tired.

He stands up with ease, unlike her, and goes to stand right in front of her. The way he looks down at her both scares and infuriates her, and she gives him the best glare she can. It must not be much, or Izaya is extremely desensitized - neither of which would really surprise her, honestly - because he just smiles at her predicament.

"Shizu-chan's neighbor. That would've been quite messy for you, wouldn't it?"

"... What? She... she moved out..."

"To leave me such a mess..." He sighs. "And let's not forget about those people that kidnapped you. Well, if you even remember, that is!" Izaya laughs at her, bending down at the knees to peer at her closely. "And Yamamoto... Sousuke, was it? I did it all for you, Mayo-chan, and yet you still continue to act so mean to me!"

"You're lying." She whispers, eyes wide as she absorbs the information.

And if she was getting his words correctly, he was trying to say that he'd covered up her tracks - but why? And how did she even know he was telling the truth? He was an informant, after all; not to mention his promise to _study _her. It wasn't too impossible a feat for him to trail after her and -

"Jeez. Haven't you watched the news recently?"

No, she hasn't - she hasn't wanted to be reminded of the terrible thing she's done. If it's going to come back to her, it'll happen whether she likes it or not; but she couldn't torture herself even more by listening to it.

"It's all too simple to peg the murder of chief of police on some criminal. They tend to carry grudges, you know. As for everything else... I suppose I just have the right connections." He grins even more.

"Liar."

"I'm not a liar, Mayo-chan. Maybe I do lie about _some _things - but I'm being completely, one hundred percent honest with you right now."

"Why? Why would you... why would you even do that?"

Finally, he stands up and shoves his hands in his pockets. "You would've gotten caught eventually, Mayo-chan. And you're just too funny to watch! I couldn't have my source of entertainment get arrested and taken away, could I?"

Izaya strides past her, heading for the door. He's two steps away from leaving when he turns to throw something else at her from over his shoulder.

"And while my last reason is valid... Maybe it's because I felt I should take some responsibility?" He hums in a pondering manner, and the next few words sound like another laugh. "After all, I'm the one who turned you into what you are now. You were sort of almost there. You just needed a little push." A shrug. "I just happened to give you a shove. Who do you think gave you that little necklace you have there, anyway?"

She staggers to her feet despite the ache residing in her body and makes to jump at him, but he just waves and steps out the door. "Have a nice night, Mayo-chan!"

"You piece of _shit-_"

The door closes.

(_i'm the one_)

Another scream comes out, but it's far less loud and ends in a distorted, strangled sort of sob. Shaking, she collapses back onto her carpet, not even registering the way the carpet rubs and makes the deep cut on her face sting even more.

(_what you are now_)

She cries for what feels like an eternity before she forces herself to get up, and then she hears a faint call of her name. The tinny voice sounds like Shizuo - and then she remembers the phone.

She quickly grabs it and hangs up and puts a hand on her face, cursing when it accidentally brushes the wound on her face. Mayonaka sits on her couch and stares blankly at the phone laying in her palm. He had to have heard everything - would he even want anything to do with her, now that he knew she had apparently been friends with the informant? Would he be disgusted that she had let herself be swayed back then? That she had been a murderer even at that time?

Her face hurts, but she can't be bothered to go wash it. She can't be bothered to do much of anything, really, other than sit there and think about Izaya's words.

"Bastard." She whispers to no one.

She must've known him before - but even seeing him has never brought up any memories of him. To know who she was, and to never say one single word about it; it makes her feel like a fool. And the necklace, too, has come from him. She lifts it over her head and throws it at the door then places her head in her hands, just as someone bursts in and gets hit by it.

"Mayonaka...!"

Of course, it's Shizuo. "Go away," She mumbles.

Mayonaka still sits there on the couch, hoping that maybe he will maybe listen to her.

He wanders to the living room, but she doesn't move. "Sorry to... just come in, but-" His voice grows steely, "Where the fuck is he?"

She lifts her head, and he stares at her for a split second before rushing the few steps that make their distance from each other. "The hell happened?" He grabs her shoulder, and she winces before he unabashedly slides the loose sweater down to reveal a thin slash.

"I'm not too sure..." She looks at him to see those coffee eyes are concentrated on the gash on her face. "I just came home, and..." Mayonaka pauses before saying her next words. "Izaya was inside. He wouldn't leave, and then... we fought, I guess. I can't remember..."

"I'm gonna find that flea. Then, I'll kill him-"

"No!" She grasps at his sleeve as he moves to carry out his statement, "Don't... please." If there is one thing she doesn't want, it's Shizuo stooping to her level - for her.

"Why the hell shouldn't I? Look what the bastard did to you!"

"... Did you hear everything?"

"I did."

"I can't believe that I... It's just..." She trails off, and he's still looking at her face.

A minute of silence passes. "...I'm taking you to see my friend. He's a doctor, and..." He clenches his fists and takes a deep breath. "That cut looks deep. Might need stitches or somethin'..." Shizuo mumbles, then grabs his phone out of his pocket.

After a conversation that Mayonaka can't be bothered to even listen to, he hangs up. "Come on." He gives her his hand. Wordlessly, she takes it and he pulls her off the couch with ease.

"Let's at least try to clean that up first."

* * *

**A/N**: Nervous about this chapter for some reason. Like its lacking in something for being the chapter where she finds some stuff out... Y'all should totally review and let me know what you thought, I'm curious to hear it. :) As usual, hope I kept everyone IC, blah di blah~

Izaya, you meanie.

Thanks for reading, please review. :)


	17. at least for the evening

A/N: Sorry for the wait and the shortness of this chapter. :x I'm trying to get back into the writing mood for this story...

Thanks so much for the reviews, I wouldn't update if it weren't for you guys!

* * *

_i must've seemed to you a shipwreck; __i looked_

_ at you, i saw an island - and __for an_

_instant, i forgot __who i was_

**chapter seventeen**

"There, all done. Though..." Shinra's voice sounds a tad hesitant as he packs away his tools, "... it's deep. It will... probably scar."

Shizuo watches Mayonaka gently touch the tips of her fingers to the stitched up cut on her face; it's on her right side, only an inch or so underneath her eye. A scar that will be there for the rest of her life, a scar that she'll probably look in the mirror and think to herself: ___Izaya. Orihara Izaya did this to me. _Maybe it's a strange situation to be jealous, but he hates the idea that she might think of the informant everytime she sees herself.

He breathes in deeply to squash in the urge to hunt down Izaya right this instant and give him more than a piece of his mind. Instead, he gives Shinra a deep, low, "Thanks."

"Anything for an old friend such as you, Shizuo!" Shinra grins cheerily, then turns his attention back to the dark haired young woman. "Mayonaka, you said your name was?"

"Yes... thank you, Shinra-san." She mumbles back, but it's clear to anyone with a brain that her mind is anywhere but inside Shinra's warm, luxe living room.

"So how do you two know each other? I haven't seen Shizuo in such a long time, and he doesn't seem to like giving me updates on his life. How sad, considering we've been friends for so long..."

"It's..." Mayonaka starts, hand finally dropping to her lap from her marred cheek.

"A long story," Shizuo finishes.

"Hmm... You know, I have the feeling I'm missing out on some things. Like why Shizuo is with a girl, for one." Shinra pauses, pretending not to see the glare that immediately sets onto the blond's face. "I wish my dear Celty was here to see this!"

"You act like she's never coming back," Shizuo snorts out. "You said she's on a job, so shut up and be patient."

"Shinra-san, I need to use the bathroom." Mayonaka interjects quietly, and the men turn to look at her.

"Ah, go ahead. It's right around the corner there," He points as she gives him a nod and follows the hallway until there's the soft click of the door.

"Spill it, Shizuo!" The doctor grabs the front of his vest, with what Shizuo thinks is a rather dumb looking expression on Shinra's face. "What's going on, huh? How did she get that cut? I'm dying to know! Oh, If Celty were here, she probably would be, too-"

"She wouldn't be annoying about it like you are, even if she was." Shizuo sighs. "... I said it's a long story, alright?"

"Fine, fine! Just tell me one thing, won't you?"

"What?"

"Is she your girlfriend?" Shinra asks him with a sly smile, pushing up his glasses.

"I-"

"Do you like her?"

"That's two things, you-"

* * *

If it wasn't someone else's apartment, she's pretty sure she would smash the mirror in front of her. She flicks on the faucet and splashes her face with cold water, and she lets it run tiny, cool paths down her face before she wipes the water away.

It was nice of him to bring her here, she thinks. _He cares, _a small, niggling voice in her head chimes in, and she runs a hand through her hair and closes her eyes. A sigh of what she thinks must be distress escapes her mouth, because, yes, _he cares –_ but he shouldn't, and she wishes he _wouldn't_. She isn't worth worrying over; she's a monster inside the pale, tired-looking shell that looks back at her from her reflection.

Izaya knew that. She wonders if she can hold him fully accountable for making her this way, but she figures she must've been pretty fucked up before to be so easily molded, anyway.

Yamamoto. Shizuo's neighbor.

She wonders if there were more, and how many; and then, Mayonaka almost wants to laugh for a moment as how preposterous her thoughts sound, mulling over how many victims she had done in.

( _monster _)

It's what the informant made her to be – and even though she's far from happy about it, she can't drag Shizuo into this mess more than he already has been. As much as she wants to whine that it's not fair she has to give this up, it's more unfair to him.

Unblinking, she stares at her reflection before she makes a decision.

* * *

The door opens back up again and Shinra turns back to packing away his medical kit, humming under his breath. Shizuo looks up to see her eyes meet his and her hand fall away from the cut. She still looks troubled, maybe even more so.

"... Thanks again, Shinra. Tell Celty I said hi."

"Sure. You two be safe now! And take care of that cut, Mayonaka-san!"

Mayonaka just nods silently and bids him a goodbye, and a few minutes later they're walking out of the building. When Shizuo looks at her from the corner of his eye, she's still touching the cut with a faraway look in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" He asks her, even though he knows there's many things that aren't going right in her life. Even though he knows this, he doesn't like that distant look on her face. Especially when he can now compare it to how she was earlier in the day; when she seemed like one of the normal, faceless people he passes by everyday. It doesn't seem right, this all too familiar expression she's set on.

"Shizuo..." She stops walking to stare at the cement beneath her heeled feet. "I think-" Mayonaka's face turns up to look at him, and something in her expression makes his gut twist and turn. "I think maybe we should stop... whatever this is." She gestures to the air with her hand. "Whatever _this_ is that we're doing. It's-"

_It's filling me with false hope, _she wants to say. _It's making me forget that I really am a horrible person. Making me forget that I don't deserve someone being as nice to me as you are._

"It's not working out," she mutters instead. Mayonaka wills herself not to look up at what is surely either his hurt or confused face, but she ends up doing it anyway. To her surprise, he doesn't look hurt or confused.

"Did you hit your head, too?" He asks her somewhat blandly before trying to put a hand on her shoulder.

"Stop it, okay?" She snaps out, trying to drown the guilt that wells up inside when his face _does _turn hurt and confused. She puts a hand to her forehead, and it slides over her eyes before she takes a step back. "This just..." Another step back is taken, and Shizuo steps forward to match it.

An impromptu staring match begins and quickly ends when Mayonaka averts her eyes. "Sorry, I'm just … stressed." She forces a smile, though it looks more like a pained grimace to him. "Forget I said anything." She starts walking again, and Shizuo quietly studies her before following suit.

Once they're back at his apartment, he's barely shut and locked the door before Mayonaka comes from behind and wraps her arms around his waist.

"Shizuo," She mumbles into his back, "I'm sorry."

"You had a tough night. Don't worry about it." He turns around to face her, and she pushes her face into his chest.

She says nothing.

"You're probably tired-" Shizuo is suddenly silenced by her lips on his, but she backs away before he can even respond.

"I'm fine, just..." Forest green eyes look up to his. "Just make me forget, okay?" She reaches up to undo his bowtie before taking his hand and leading him into the bedroom. Mayonaka sits him on the bed before crawling onto his lap, and she tries to memorize how his hands feel around her hips. "I want to forget," She repeats.

Even if it's only for a little bit, only for the duration of this last hurrah, she thinks it'll do the job. Except, when she loops her arms around his neck, she can only think about how warm he feels, how rough his hands feel against her skin. It makes her never want to let go of Shizuo and his sunny hair and coffee eyes - not ever.

But she'll have to, so she just tries to relish the feel of him and the comforting, faded scent of cigarettes and cologne while she still can.

* * *

The birds are chirping in an irritating manner when Shizuo wakes up. He breathes in deep and throws an arm over his eyes before removing it a few moments later, and he rubs his eyes before looking to the side of the bed which seems rather empty.

This wakes him up a little bit, and he sits up to frown at the wrinkled sheets. Shizuo looks over again and spots a small, folded note. He wants to curse, but he hopes he's wrong about what he thinks it says and so he picks it up and unfolds it. A feeling of heaviness washes over him once he skims the words.

_Shizuo - Thank you for everything._

_Please don't look for me. I don't _

_want to be found. I'm sorry._

And on the other side of town, Mayonaka crams a suitcase with clothes and makeup and trinkets that don't seem nearly as important as what ( _who _) she's lost – what ( _who_ ) she's willingly given up. But sometimes, she tells herself, sometimes, sacrifices must be made in order for things to get better. Because she cannot bring him into this; this is something she has to do by herself. Something only she alone can do.

_Payback's a bitch - _

She takes her bag and heads outside, with sunglasses in place and red painted lips set tightly together.

- _and you'll see it firsthand, Orihara Izaya._

* * *

A/N: Oh jeez. I hope the shortness wasn't too terrible; please let me know what you think.

I eat reviews. :)


	18. shadow's keeper

A/N: OMG I'M ALIVE.

With that said, this chapter is kinda boring and iffy and crappy, but I really, honest to God love this story, so I couldn't give up on it yet. I've had most of this chapter written for months now and just finally finished it.

So... I hope you all enjoy either way. I'm sorry about the wait, and thanks so much for all the reviews!

* * *

_what is the purpose if you feel so incomplete?_

_what is the reason if it beats you to your knees?_

**chapter eighteen**

**two months later**

If she didn't know any better, she might not even recognize herself.

A long, fluffy blonde wig covers up her shaggy dark hair; brown contacts cover up dark green eyes that blink at her reflection. She thinks for a moment that it's a sad mockery of Shizuo's own light hair and brown eyes. What feels like pounds of makeup clog her pores – but most importantly, enough of it covers up the unsightly looking scar left by Orihara Izaya.

She puts the finishing touches of makeup on her lips and eyes before putting on a pair of fake glasses, flipping the light off in the bathroom, and grabbing a light jacket before leaving the cheap motel she's been renting out for the past two months. Mayonaka had entertained the thought of moving to Shinjuku, closer to Izaya, but she has the feeling that if she gets too close, he'll know.

She had left her own apartment for good that day - the last day she saw him. Shizuo. He'd called and called, and she had simply hit the reject button with hesitant fingers everytime. She'd seen him from afar on occasion; he was almost always getting into fights, or following around his dreadlocked co-worker.

Everytime, she had felt like approaching him. Sometimes she'd visualize it; she'd rip off the wig and rub off the makeup til it smeared and revealed her true face. She'd tell him she was sorry for leaving like that, and-

Mayonaka shakes her head. There's no point in visualizing if it's something that will never happen. And she needs to stay disguised; it's the only way she can get around without being recognzed by the informant, or being distracted by Shizuo. It's really silly, actually – she's been in hiding in order to exact revenge upon one Orihara Izaya, but she hasn't the faintest idea of how to do so.

She still has nightmare. All red and gory, people with gaping eyes and mouths and missing tongues; but the worst nightmares she's had, she thinks, must be the ones with Shizuo in them. Maybe even her subconscious can't desecrate the idea of him, make him into a monster – instead, those eyes of his just stare at her with disdain and disappointment, and she often wakes from those dreams with a phantom weight in her chest.

And glimpses in her other dreams escape her, flashes of a young man who looks familiar but isn't, his fearful face – a body plummeting, the disgusting smack of flesh and bone against pavement. She sees his face, Izaya's, smiling.

She supposes she's doing okay otherwise. Mayonaka's cut out the drugs; she needs to be on point and sharp at all times, just in case. Now she's just a waitress at a tiny little cafe in the heart of Ikebukuro, and that suits her well enough.

Tonight, she'll do something about him. Because two months hasn't done her any good, and she thinks it's been more of a waste of time than anything.

* * *

Her shift is boring, just as all the others before were – but her mind quickly changes and her heart starts pounding when she sees two familiar faces enter the cafe, taking a small table by the window. The sun gleams onto the one man's light hair, and he takes off his sunglasses before slipping them in his vest pocket and nodding at his companion, the man with dreadlocks.

She doesn't realize she's been staring until her boss nudges her. "Are you gonna take your table, or what?"

"R...right." Mayonaka fluffs her hair so it lays around her face and covers some of it, pushing up her glasses. She heads over, and oh God, she's so nervous he'll figure it out; but the nametag on her shirt reads Momoko, not Mayonaka, and so she takes in a deep breath before she strides to the table.

"Hey there," She begins, making her voice so high it almost sounds squeaky. "What could I get for you two today?"

They both order coffee; Shizuo looks up at her, and his lips stop forming the words as he stares at her.

"Sir?" She prompts him and averts her eyes to her notepad. Deep down, she might want him to recognize her. If that happens, she tells herself, maybe she could just give this whole stupid thing up. Because Izaya is _Izaya_, and he is both unbeatable and invincible – thinking otherwise is simply folly. It would be so lovely to just be around Shizuo and _forget_-

"Ah... extra sugar."

Her thumping heart drops, and she nods and walks away.

* * *

For a single moment, he swears he had seen her. The shape of her face, the structure of her nose and lips and cheeks – but the eyes and hair are all wrong, and no scar is to be seen. Her voice is high and almost intolerable, nothing like the soft, quiet voice he remembers her having. Something seems familiar about whatever scent is wafting about her, though, that stumps him.

It's probably just some cruel joke, the kind that life loves to throw in his way. Tom notices the subtle change in his demeanor and looks at him with poorly concealed worry.

The first week, he'd been angry. The second week, he had been angry and miserable; by the third, he had decided to just try to push everything into a dark corner of his mind, and chalk it up to a sequence of events he doesn't think he'll ever forget ( _but he'll try his damndest to never remember _).

The waitress comes out with two cups of coffee, setting them down gently before asking if they need anything else. And Shizuo, he just mumbles a no and stares at the hot steam swirling up to his face. She begins to walk away, when he places it; almonds.

He's brought back to the memory of almond-scented bedsheets intermingled with sweat and sex, almonds mixed with coppery blood; his eyes widen as he swivels around to stare at her. The waitress is staring right back at him, but once their eyes meet she quickly turns away and busies herself with refilling jars of sugar.

"-izuo? Shizuo?"

"Yeah?" He murmurs, eyes still on her back.

"You alright?"

He nods and takes a gulp of the too hot, too sweet coffee, eyes never leaving her form. If he does, he's sure she'll fade away or something-

"If you say so," Tom says, and he doesn't sound very convinced. He watches Shizuo gaze at the waitress, but Tom doesn't know much of what runs through his companion's mind, so he doesn't question it. When they're done their coffee, Shizuo leaves a nice sized tip on the table before following Tom out.

* * *

Mayonaka waves goodbye to her boss and shrugs on her jacket as she steps outside into the cool night air. The incident earlier had been way too close for comfort, though at the very least, he hadn't recognized her-

"Hey."

The voice is all too familiar, but she strains to keep walking and pretend that she doesn't hear him.

"Hey," The voice calls, and it's closer now. She speeds up her pace, and goes to cross the street, but it's not safe for her to cross yet.

A hand is laid on her shoulder, and she puts a poker face on before turning to look at him disinterestedly. "Er, yes?" She asks, still in the squeaky pitch.

"The hell," He says ever so eloquently, and she hasn't realized how much she missed just looking at him, his features aglow with the streetlights. He leans close to her, and the comforting smell of smoke and cologne and Shizuo washes over her - her heart thuds so wildly she's sure he can hear it. To her utter surprise, he sniffs her.

"S-sir, that's really inapp-"

"Stop it," He stands back straight again, and her heart stops pounding for a moment to clench at the slightly hurt look he has on his face. "Pretending."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." She tries to protest, taking a step away. "I'm sorry if you thought I was someone else-"

"Mayonaka," He whispers gruffly, and she has never heard anything so clearly despite the traffic whizzing by. His fingers raise up to her face and trace the spot where the scar is. "Stop. You didn't have _that_ earlier," He tells her, and she realizes the makeup must have smudged up from wiping at her face.

"No, you're wrong-" She's trying to hard to cling to her lies, but with dismay, she realizes that her defenses never really stood a chance should this have ever happened. And it is happening now, and the light has changed and it's safe to walk just like everyone else is doing, but she finds her feet won't move. "You're..."

The breath wheezes out of her as she's suddenly swept up into a bear hug, her face tucked against the smooth material of his vest. "Damn idiot," Shizuo states, and he squeezes her tighter.

"I..." Suddenly, she can't find it in her to protest anymore. "I..." Her eyes start stinging and her nose gets that funny little burning feeling, and she knows she's starting to cry.

"Don't leave again." He tells her simply, voice muffled by the wig his lips are pressed to.

"I wanted – want," She corrects herself, "Him to pay. If I was with you any longer, I would have... I'd have wanted to forget. I can't forget, I've forgotten everything else, because of _him_, and he needs to _pay_ for that-" She rambles, but he stops her in her tracks by lifting her face up and kissing her on the cheek, where the scar is.

"... I know." He looks at her, and she trembles at his gaze.

It would be _so easy_, so goddamn easy -

Before she can change her mind and turn into a simpering mess, she takes a wobbly step back, then another. Another and another, until she realizes she's turned around and she's running. Mayonaka runs faster than she ever might've in her life – because of all the things that terrify her, giving up on this is high on her list. She hears him call her name, but there's so much distance that it's nothing more than a muted yell, and she squeezes her eyes shut and keeps on running like her life depends on it.

She forces her mind to picture another face – Izaya's – and it does exactly what she hopes it will, filling her with anger and a sense that, everything, it's so _unfair. _Soon, she's on a train to Shinjuku, huffing and wiping furiously at her eyes. Mayonaka hasn't thought this out at all, not in the least – but this only keeps breaking her down, down, down, and she's fucking tired of it.

Once she arrives at his building, she tries to calm herself down in the elevator, but it doesn't really do shit. Then, the moment has arrived – the moment where she's right in front of his door, and she knocks. He's right inside, she thinks to herself, the bastard's so close she can already see that smirk through the damn door.

But no one answers. Blinking rapidly, maybe to ward off more tears of the frustrated variety, she peers at the crack at the bottom of the door. No light shines through, and she lets out a loud curse. She kicks the door and slaps it with her palm, once, twice.

She never heard him coming behind her, so she turns around with red eyes and running makeup, probably looking a horror - and comes nose to nose with Orihara Izaya.

* * *

A/N: Before anyone yells at me for having them reunite so soon, keep in mind that it's been two months. If there's any grammatical errors, I'm lazy so I'll get to those later...

Please review and tell me what you think, I'm curious to see how you all think this "showdown" might go down.

Thanks for reading. :)


	19. i don't wanna bend

A/N: Um... _please_ don't kill me. To be honest, this update, in my own opinion isn't really the best - but I really would like to finish my stories at some point, though I feel my heart really isn't in it too much (or at least this category). You might be able to see that in this chapter, I don't know, haha. Will be wrapping this story up soon, so please enjoy. :)

* * *

_is it ever gonna be enough?_

_all the noise, all the voices_

_never stop_

**chapter nineteen**_  
_

"Mayo-chan! What a lovely surprise!"

If she didn't know any better, she would think from the wide smile and glittering eyes that he genuinely meant it. Then again, this was _him_ – he probably did, in his own warped way. If she knew better, she would have known to repress her first impulse.

But, like always, she has learned nothing. Her hand snaps out, ready to make an impact with his face. Just as quickly, if not more, his own hand lashes out before any hit can be made, his long, spidery fingers wrapping tight around her wrist. She holds in a whimper as they squeeze so hard she feels like her wrist might break.

"You're in a pleasant mood as always, aren't you?" Still smiling, he flicks his hair back with his other hand. "What's the reason for tonight's visit, hm?"

She ignores the painful throbbing in her wrist, and without missing a beat, she says, "I'm ending it. Tonight."

Izaya lets go of her wrist, which manages to infuriate her more than if he had held on. It means he does not percieve her to be a threat.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," He clicks his tongue, "Still haven't learned, I see. I mean, seriously, Mayo-chan... this makes it what – the third try?"

"Third...?" She echoes. Mayonaka remembers blacking out that night in her apartment, the night Shizuo had come running to her apartment – had she done the same thing before? And _still _failed?

"That's right, that's right!" He confirms, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Not that you'd remember, ha ha!" Her jaw tightens as he leans close. "But I do. I remember very well," he whispers.

* * *

"_I trusted you!" She shrieks, eyes wide. Tears are coursing down her face, and they mix with the smudges of blood on her cheeks. Pink drips down and off of her chin. "You lied to me... You..."_

"_I'd say half of it was your own fault, Mayo-chan. You're the one who was eating the words right out of my hands. I didn't even think you'd go that far, to be honest. I mean, really! Who would believe someone when they tell you your parents are conspiring to kill you?"_

_The knife in her hand falls to the floor. It clatters when it lands, right next to her mother's face. When she looks down at her parents, their eyes are blank, dead – but she can almost see the betrayal, the pain and surprise in them. Dimly, she blames it on the lighting. _

_He'd lied to her, yes; but had he been so wrong about her? She hadn't known him long at all – and look at what had happened. She'd trusted him so blindly, so _stupidly_, and now she had no one. _

_Izaya had come over her house a few times before. Her parents had never really cared – they didn't care about too much other than work and her grades. Mayonaka could remember the moment so clearly..._

_Laying on her stomach in bed, she lazily flips another page of a fashion magazine as she hears Izaya come in. "What took you so long?" She drawls. When there is no answer, she curiously looks towards her bedroom door._

_His face looks unsually grim – it doesn't look right on him. He looks back out towards the hallway, almost nervously, she thinks, before he shuts it quietly. "Mayo-chan..."_

"_What is it?" She is almost concerned for him; never before has she seen him look like this, all signs of cockiness gone._

"_I overheard something when I came in. Your parents, I don't think they heard me come in, but I... I..."_

_Her curiousity now properly piqued, she sat up. "Spit it out, Izaya! You can't just say something like _that_ and not finish your sentence."_

"_They're planning on … on killing you!" He blurts out, dashing forward, his hands grabbing hers._

"_That's real funny," She rolls her eyes, "Try again next time, alright?" _

"_I'm... I'm not joking, Mayonaka." _

_Her eyes swivel to his face. Izaya never, _ever_ used her full name. There is a dead serious look in his eye that makes her believe him, concern etched onto his delicate features. _

"_W...what?" She hates the quivering sound of her own voice. Swallowing thickly, her mind begins to reel. _

"_They said... they said that tomorrow, they were going to poison your breakfast. They think you're a huge disappointment, that they wish you'd never been born. I think they've caught on to what you did to your ex. It does seem a little suspicious."_

_She is speechless. Poison her? Her _parents_? _

"_You need to run, Mayo-chan. You can come live with me in Shinjuku, you'll be safe-" He halts mid-sentence. "Then again, they _are_ your parents. They can always issue a missing persons report, and when they have you back..." He trails off, and her mind finishes the statement for him._

"_What do I... what do I do?" Her voice is hushed, frantic – she glances at the door as if her parents will come in charging at any moment. _

"_You know what you need to do... Mayonaka."_

_Izaya himself cannot be any happier with how this whole affair is turning out. Here she is, this girl that _clearly_ has mental problems, ones that her parents have neglected seeing. Maybe if they had, she wouldn't have been this way._

_Wouldn't have met Izaya, standing on top of the roof with her head filled with sadistic fantasies. Wouldn't have trusted a stranger so easily, in such a short span of time. _

_Wouldn't have pushed her ex-boyfriend off of a building. _

_He supposes killing once must almost be like a gateway drug – it can only open more possibilities, more terrible things for her to do. The first time is the hardest, he's heard. And the fact it is Izaya relaying this information only cements this crazy idea in her mind, since she has found what she thinks must be a kindred spirit. Like all other humans, she is stupid._

"_I'll be here for you, every step of the way..."_

* * *

"Whatever. That's in the past. This is now-" She utters, with no recollection of what he may be talking about.

She is praying beyond hope that he doesn't see her hand slip into her pocket. She fingers the knife, licks her lips. Enough is enough. This has gone on too long. Once this is over, she can live normally - and if he allowed it, with Shizuo. She can almost taste it on the tip of her tongue, a sweet dream of how things can be, just the two of them.

"-And right now, I have to end this." Quickly, her hand emerges from her pocket and she brings the knife up – but a voice stops her.

"Mayonaka!"

She knows that voice anywhere – especially since she's heard it just a short while ago. Even in the shitty flourescent lighting of the hallway, his hair still gleams like the sun, his coffee eyes centered on hers. Mayonaka wants to run to him, wants to tell him to leave them be because this is _her_ burden, but she knows anything and everything will fall on deaf ears.

And in the hallway, the three of them stand in a moment's silence. It is the calm before the storm, before everything will change – whether that is for better or worse.

* * *

A/N: What do you want to see happen? Only one or two chapters left, so please review and let me know! Again, I apologize if this chapter is disappointing after such a long wait. Thanks for reading.


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